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New  Yorlt :  Published  by  Macmillan  &  Co  ,  1882. 


THE 

ODYSSEY  OF  HOMER 

DONE     INTO    ENGLISH     PROSE 

By 
S.   H.   BUTCHER,   M.A. 

Fellow  and  Pralector  of  University  College^   Oxford 
Late  Fellow  of  Trinity  College^   Cambrii^ge 


A.   LANG,   M.A. 

Latt  Fellqw  qf  Merion  College,  Oxford 

Third   Edition,  Bevised  and  Corrected 
With  Additional  Notes 


MACMILLAN     AND    CO 
1883 


iiStfGATLpN  pEPi, 


# 


AS    ONE    THAT    FOR    A    WEARY    SPACE    HAS    LAIN 

LULLED    BY    THE    SONG    OF    CIRCE    AND    HER    WINB 

IN    GARDENS    NEAR    THE    PALE    OF    PROSERPINE, 

WHERE    THAT    JEj^AH    ISLE    FORGETS    THE    MAIN, 

AND    ONLY    THE    LOW    LUTES    OF    LOVE    COMPLAIN, 

AND    ONLY    SHADOWS    OF    WAN    LOVERS    PINE, 

AS    SUCH    AN    ONE    WERE    GLAD    TO    KNOW    THE    BRINB 

SALT    ON    HIS    LIPS,    AND    THE    LARGE    AIR    AGAIN, 

SO    GLADLY,    FROM    THE    SONGS    OF    MODERN    SPEECH 

MEN    TURN,    AND    SEE    THE    STARS,    AND    FEEL    THE    FREE 

SHRILL    WIND    BEYOND    THE    CLOSE    OF    HEAVY    FLOWERS 

AND    THROUGH    THE    MUSIC    OF    THE    LANGUID    HOURS. 

THEY    HEAR    LIKE    OCEAN     ON    A   WESTERN    BEACH 

THE    SURGE    AND    THUNDER    OF    THE    ODYSSEY. 

A.  L. 


■% 


ivi69836 


PREFACE. 


There  would  have  been  less  controversy  about  the 
proper  method  of  Homeric  translation,  if  critics  had  re- 
cognised that  the  question  is  a  purely  relative  one,  that  of 
Homer  there  can  be  no  final  translation.  The  taste  and 
the  literary  habits  of  each  age  demand  different  qualities  in 
poetry,  and  therefore  a  different  sort  of  rendering  of  Homer. 
To  the  men  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  Homer  would  have 
appeared  bald,  it  seems,  and  lacking  in  ingenuity,  if  he 
had  been  presented  in  his  antique  simplicity.  For  the 
Elizabethan  age.  Chapman  supplied  what  was  then  neces- 
sary, and  tjie  mannerisms  that  were  then  deemed  of  the 
essence  of  poetry,  namely,  daring  and  luxurious  conceits. 
Thus  in  Chapman's  verse  Troy  must  *  shed  her  towers  for 
tears  of  overthrow,'  and  when  the  winds  toss  Odysseus 
about,  their  sport  must  be  called  *  the  horrid  tennis.' 

In  the  age  of  Anne,  'dignity'  and  *  correctness '  had  to 
be  given  to  Homer,  and  Pope  gave  them  by  aid  of  his 
dazzling  rhetoric,  his  antitheses,  his  netteU,  his  command  of 
every  conventional  and  favourite  artifice.  Without  Chapman's 
conceits,  Homer's  poems  would  hardly  have  been  what  the 
Elizabethans  took  for  poetry;  without  Pope's  smoothness, 
and  Pope's  points,  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey  would  have  seemed 
tame,  rude,  and  harsh  in  the  age  of  Anne.     These  great 


vi  PREFACE, 

translations  must  always  live  as  English  poems.  As  tran- 
scripts of  Homer  they  are  like  pictures  drawn  from  a  lost 
point  of  view.  Chaque  Steele  depm's  le  xvi^  a  eu  de  ce  c6U  son 
belv^der  different.  Again,  when  Europe  woke  to  a  sense,  an 
almost  exaggerated  and  certainly  uncritical  sense,  of  the  value 
of  her  songs  of  the  people,  of  all  the  ballads  that  Herder,  Scott, 
Lonnrot,  and  the  rest  collected,  it  was  commonly  said  that 
Homer  was  a  ballad-minstrel,  that  the  translator  must  imitate 
the  simplicity,  and  even  adopt  the  formulae  of  the  ballad. 
Hence  came  the  renderings  of  Maginn,  the  experiments  of 
Mr.  Gladstone,  and  others.  There  was  some  excuse  for  the 
error  of  critics  who  asked  for  a  Homer  in  ballad  rhyme. 
The  Epic  poet,  the  poet  of  gods  and  heroes,  did  indeed  in- 
herit some  of  the  formulae  of  the  earlier  Volks-lied.  Homer, 
like  the  author  of  The  Song  of  Roland^  like  the  singers  of 
the  Kalevala,  uses  constantly  recurring  epithets,  and  repeats, 
word  for  word,  certain  emphatic  passages,  messages,  and 
so  on.  That  custom  is  essential  in  the  ballad,  it  is  an  acci- 
dent not  the  essence  of  the  epic.  The  epic  is  a  poem  of 
consummate  and  supreme  art,  but  it  still  bears  some  birth- 
marks, some  signs  of  the  early  popular  chant,  out  of  which 
it  sprung,  as  the  garden-rose  springs  from  the  wild  stock. 
When  this  is  recognised  the  demand  for  ballad-like  sim- 
plicity and  *  ballad-slang '  ceases  to  exist,  and  then  all 
Homeric  translations  in  the  ballad  manner  cease  to  repre- 
sent our  conception  of  Homer.  After  the  belief  in  the 
ballad  manner  follows  the  recognition  of  the  romantic  vein  in 
Homer,  and,  as  a  result,  came  Mr.  Worsley's  admirable  Odys- 
sey. This  masterly  translation  does  all  that  can  be  done  for 
the  Odyssey  in  the  romantic  style.  The  liquid  lapses  of  the 
verse,  the  wonderful  closeness  to  the   original,  reproduce 


PREFACE,  vn 

all  of  Homer,  in  music  and  in  meaning,  that  can  be  rendered 
in  English  verse.  There  still,  however,  seems  an  aspect 
of  the  Homeric  poems,  and  a  demand  in  connection  with 
Homer  to  be  recognisefl,  and  to  be  satisfied. 

Sainte-Beuve  says,  with  reference  probably  to  M.  Leconte 
de  Lisle's  prose  version  of  the  epics,  that  some  people 
treat  the  epics  too  much  as  if  they  were  sagas.  Now  the 
Homeric  epics  are  sagas,  but  then  they  are  the  sagas  of 
the  divine  heroic  age  of  Greece,  and  thus  are  told  with 
an  art  which  is  not  the  art  of  the  Northern  poets.  The 
epics  are  stories  about  the  adventures  of  men  living  in 
most  respects  like  the  men  of  our  own  race  who  dwelt  in 
Iceland,  Norway,  Denmark,  and  Sweden.  The  epics  are, 
in  a  way,  and  as  far  as  manners  and  institutions  are  con- 
cerned, historical  documents.  Whoever  regards  them  in 
this  way,  must  wish  to  read  them  exactly  as  they  have 
reached  us,  without  modern  ornament,  with  nothing  added 
or  omitted.  He  must  recognise,  with  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold, 
that  what  he  now  wants,  namely,  the  simple  truth  about  the 
matter  of  the  poem,  can  only  be  given  in  prose,  'for  in 
a  verse  translation  no  original  work  is  any  longer  recognis- 
able.' It  is  for  this  reason  that  we  have  attempted  to  tell 
once  more,  in  simple  prose,  the  story  of  Odysseus.  We  have 
tried  to  transfer,  not  all  the  truth  about  the  poem,  but  the 
historical  truth,  into  English.  In  this  process  Homer  must 
lose  at  least  half  his  charm,  his  bright  and  equable  speed, 
the  musical  current  of  that  narrative,  which,  like  the  river  of 
Egypt,  flows  from  an  indiscoverable  source,  and  mirrors  the 
temples  and  the  palaces  of  unforgotten  gods  and  kings. 
Without  this  music  of  verse,  only  a  half  truth  about  Homer 
can  be  told,  but  then  it  is  that  half  of  the  truth  whicl^ 


viii  PREFACE, 

at  this  moment,  it  seems  most  necessary  to  tell.  This  is 
the  half  of  the  truth  that  the  translators  who  use  verse 
cannot  easily  tell.  They  must  be  adding  to  Homer,  talk- 
ing with  Pope  about  *  tracing  the^mazy  lev'ret  o'er  the 
lawn,'  or  with  Mr.  Worsley  about  the  islands  that  are 
'stars  of  the  blue  Aegaean,'  or  with  Dr.  Hawtrey  about 
*the  earth's  soft  arms,'  when  Homer  says  nothing  at  all 
about  the  '  mazy  lev'ret,'  or  the  '  stars  of  the  blue  Aegaean,' 
or  the  'soft  arms'  of  earth.  It  would  be  impertinent  in- 
deed to  blame  any  of  these  translations  in  their  place. 
They  give  that  which  the  romantic  reader  of  poetry,  or 
the  student  of  the  age  of  Anne,  looks  for  in  verse ;  and 
without  tags  of  this  sort,  a  translation  of  Homer  in  verse 
cannot  well  be  made  to  hold  together. 

There  can  be  then,  it  appears,  no  final  English  transla- 
tion of  Homer.  In  each  there  must  be,  in  addition  to 
what  is  Greek  and  eternal,  the  element  of  what  is  modern, 
personal,  and  fleeting.  Thus  we  trust  that  there  may  be 
room  for  *  the  pale  and  far-off  shadow  of  a  prose  transla- 
tion,' of  which  the  aim  is  limited  and  humble.  A  prose 
translation  cannot  give  the  movement  and  the*  fire  of  a 
successful  translation  in  verse ;  it  only  gathers,  as  it  were, 
the  crumbs  which  fall  from  the  richer  table,  only  tells  the 
story,  without  the  song.  Yet  to  a  prose  translation  is  per- 
mitted, perhaps,  that  close  adherence  to  the  archaisms  of 
the  epic,  which  in  verse  become  mere  oddities.  The 
double  epithets,  the  recurring  epithets  of  Homer,  if 
rendered  into  verse,  delay  and  puzzle  the  reader,  as  the 
Greek  does  not  delay  nor  puzzle  him.  In  prose  he  may 
endure  them,  or  even  care  to  study  them  as  the  survivals  of 
a  stage  of  taste,  which  is  found  in  its  prime  in  the  sagas. 


PREFACE.  ix 


These  double  and  recurring  epithets  of  Homer  are  a  softer 
form  of  the  quaint  Northern  periphrases,  which  make  the  sea 
the  *  swan's  bath/  gold,  the  *  dragon's  hoard/  men,  the  *  ring- 
givers/  and  so  on.  We  do  not  know  whether  it  is  necessary 
to  defend  our  choice  of  a  somewhat  antiquated  prose. 
Homer  has  no  ideas  which  cannot  be  expressed  in  words 
that  are  *  old  and  plain/  and  to  words  that  are  old  and  plain, 
and,  as  a  rule,  to  such  terms  as,  being  used  by  the  Trans- 
lators of  the  Bible,  are  still  not  unfamiliar,  we  have  tried  to 
restrict  ourselves.  It  may  be  objected,  that  the  employment 
of  language  which  does  not  come  spontaneously  to  the  lips,  is 
an  affectation  out  of  place  in  a  version  of  the  Odyssey.  To 
this  we  may  ans.ver  that  the  Greek  Epic  dialect,  like  the 
English  of  our  Bible,  was  a  thing  of  slow  growth  and  com- 
posite nature,  that  it  was  never  a  spoken  language,  nor, 
except  for  certain  poetical  purposes,  a  written  language. 
Thus  the  Biblical  Engliih  seems  as  nearly  analogous  to 
the  Epic  Greek,  as  anything  that  our  tongue  has  to  offer. 

The  few  foot-notes  in  this  book  are  chiefly  intended  to 
make  clear  some  passages  where  there  is  a  choice  of 
reading.  The  notes  at  the  end,  which  we  would  like  to 
have  written  in  the  form  of  essays,  and  in  company  with 
more  complete  philological  and  archaeological  studies,  are 
chiefly  meant  to  elucidate  the  life  of  Homer's  men.  Some 
day  we  hope  to  write  at  length  on  Homeric  syntax  and 
Homeric  forms  of  words,  as  well  as  on  the  heroic  society 
of  the  poet's  age. 

The  head  of  the  Cyclops,  in  the  frontispiece,  is  copied 

from    a    bronze    in    the   British   Museum,   the    figure    of 

Odysseus  and  the  ram  from  a  vase  in  the  same  collection, 

a  work  probably  of  the  fifth  century.     In  the  original  the 

b 


X  PREFACE. 

ram  is  black,  on  a  black  ground,  and  the  figure  of  Odys- 
seus is  red.  The  latter  does  not  wear  the  sailor's  cap, 
which  often  distinguishes  him  in  later  art,  and  it  is  no 
longer  possible  to  decipher  the  letters  above  his  head.  Mr. 
A.  S.  Murray,  of  the  British  Museum,  kindly  drew  our 
attention  to  these  illustrations  of  the  Odyssey,  illustrations 
to  which  we  would  willingly  have  added  many  more. 

We  have  received  much  help  from  many  friends,  and 
especially  from  Mr.  R.  W.  Raper,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
Oxford,  and  Mr.  Gerald  Balfour,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge,  who  have  aided  us  with  many  suggestions  while 
the  book  was  passing  through  the  press. 

In  the  interpretation  of  B.  i.  411,  ii.  191,  v.  90,  and  471, 
we  have  departed  from  the  received  view,  and  followed  Mr. 
Raper,  who,  however,  has  not  been  able  to  read  through  the 
proof-sheets  further  than  Book  xii. 

We  have  adopted  La  Roche's  text  (Homeri  Odyssea,  J. 
La  Roche,  Leipzig,  1867),  except  in  a  few  cases  where  we 
mention  our  reading  in  a  foot-note. 

The  Arguments  prefixed  to  the  Books  are  taken,  with  very 
slight  alterations,  from  Hobbes'  Translation  of  the  Odyssey. 

It  is  hoped  that  the  Introduction  added  to  the  second  edition 
may  illustrate  the  growth  of  those  national  legends  on  which 
Homer  worked,  and  may  elucidate  the  plot  of  the  Odyssey. 


PREFACE  TO   THE  THIRD  EDITION. 

We  owe  our  thanks  to  the  Rev.  E.  Warre,  of  Eton  College, 
for  certain  corrections  on  nautical  points.  In  particular,  he  has 
convinced  us  that  the  raft  of  Odysseus  in  B.  v.  is  a  raft  strictly  so 
called,  and  that  it  is  not,  under  the  poet's  description,  elaborated 
into  a  ship,  as  has  been  commonly  supposed.  The  translation 
of  the  passage  (B.  v.  246-261)  is  accordingly  altered. 


INTRODUCTION. 


Composition  and  Plot  of  the  Odyssey. 

The  Odyssey  is  generally  supposed  to  be  somewhat  the 
later  in  date  of  the  two  most  ancient  Greek  poems  which  are 
concerned  with  the  events  and  consequences  of  the  Trojan 
war.  As  to  the  actual  history  of  that  war,  it  may  be  said  that 
nothing  is  known.  We  may  conjecture  that  some  contest 
between  peoples  of  more  or  less  kindred  stocks,  who  occupied 
the  isles  and  the  eastern  and  western  shores  of  the  Aegean, 
left  a  strong  impression  on  the  popular  fancy.  Round  the 
memories  of  this  contest  would  gather  many  older  legends, 
myths,  and  stories,  not  peculiarly  Greek  or  even  *  Aryan,' 
which  previously  floated  unattached,  or  were  connected  with 
heroes  whose  fame  was  swallowed  up  by  that  of  a  newer 
generation.  It  would  be  the  work  of  minstrels,  priests, 
and  poets,  as  the  national  spirit  grew  conscious  of  itself,  to 
shape  all  these  materials  into  a  definite  body  of  tradition. 
This  is  the  rule  of  development — first  scattered  stories,  then 
the  union  of  these  into  a  national  legend.  The  growth  of 
later  national  legends,  which  we  are  able  to  trace,  histori- 
cally, has  generally  come  about  in  this  fashion.  To  take 
the  best  known  example,  we  are  able  to  compare  the  real 
history  of  Charlemagne  with  the  old  epic  poems  on  his 
life  and  exploits.  In  these  poems  we  find  that  facts  are 
strangely  exaggerated,  and  distorted ;  that  purely  fanciful 
additions  are  made  to  the  true  records,  that  the  more  striking 

b  a 


xil  INTRODUCTION, 

events  of  earlier  history  are  crowded  into  the  legend  of 
Charles,  that  mere  fairy  tales,  current  among  African  as  well 
as  European  peoples,  are  transmuted  into  false  history,  and 
that  the  anonymous  characters  of  fairy  tales  are  converted 
into  historical  personages.  We  can  also  watch  the  process 
by  which  feigned  genealogies  were  constructed,  which  con- 
nected the  princely  houses  of  France  with  the  imaginary 
heroes  of  the  epics.  The  conclusion  is  that  the  poetical  history 
of  Charlemagne  has  only  the  faintest  relations  to  the  true 
history.  And  we  are  justified  in  supposing  that  quite  as 
litde  of  the  real  history  of  events  can  be  extracted  from  the 
tale  of  Troy,  as  from  the  Chansons  de  Geste, 

By  the  time  the  Odyssey  was  composed,  it  is  certain  that 
a  poet  had  before  him  a  well-arranged  mass  of  legends  and 
traditions  from  which  he  might  select  his  materials.  The 
author  of  the  Iliad  has  an  extremely  full  and  curiously 
consistent  knowledge  of  the  local  traditions  of  Greece,  the 
memories  which  were  cherished  by  Thebans,  Pylians,  people 
of  Mycenae,  of  Argos,  and  so  on.  Both  the  Iliad  and  the 
Odyssey  assume  this  knowledge  in  the  hearers  of  the  poems, 
and  take  for  granted  some  acquaintance  with  other  legends, 
as  with  the  story  of  the  Argonautic  Expedition.  Now  that 
story  itself  is  a  tissue  of  popular  tales, — still  current  in  many 
distant  lands, — but  all  woven  by  the  Greek  genius  into  the 
history  of  lason. 

The  history  of  the  return  of  Odysseus  as  told  in  the 
Odyssey,  is  in  the  same  way,  a  tissue  of  old  mdrchen. 
These  must  have  existed  for  an  unknown  length  of  time 
before  they  gravitated  into  the  cycle  of  the  tale  of  Troy. 

The  extraordinary  artistic  skill  with  which  legends  and 
myths,  originally  unconnected  with  each  other,  are  woven 
into  the  plot  of  the  Odyssey,  so  that  the  marvels  of  savage 
and  barbaric  fancy  become  indispensable  parts  of  an  artistic 


INTRODUCTION,  xiii 


whole,  is  one  of  the  chief  proofs  of  the  unity  of  authorship 
of  that  poem.  We  now  go  on  to  sketch  the  plot,  which  is 
a  marvel  of  construction. 

Odysseus  was  the  King  of  Ithaca,  a  small  and  rugged 
island  on  the  western  coast  of  Greece.  When  he  was  but 
lately  married  to  Penelope,  and  while  his  only  son  Tele- 
machus  was  still  an  infant,  the  Trojan  war  began.  It  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  the  object  of  this  war,  as 
conceived  of  by  the  poets,  was  to  win  back  Helen,  the  wife 
of  Menelaus,  from  Paris,  the  son  of  Priam,  King  of  Troy. 
As  Menelaus  was  the  brother  of  Agamemnon,  the  Emperor, 
so  to  speak,  or  recognised  chief  of  the  petty  kingdoms  of 
Greece,  the  whole  force  of  these  kingdoms  was  at  his  dis- 
posal. No  prince  came  to  the  leaguer  of  Troy  from  a  home 
more  remote  than  that  of  Odysseus.  When  Troy  was  taken, 
in  the  tenth  year  of  the  war,  his  homeward  voyage  was  the 
longest  and  most  perilous. 

The  action  of  the  Odyssey  occupies  but  the  last  six  weeks 
of  the  ten  years  during  which  Odysseus  was  wandering.  Two 
nights  in  these  six  weeks  are  taken  up,  however,  by  his  own 
narrative  of  his  adventures  (to  the  Phaeacians,  p.  xx)  in  the 
previous  ten  years.  With  this  explanatory  narrative  we  must 
begin,  before  coming  to  the  regular  action  of  the  poem. 

After  the  fall  of  Troy,  Odysseus  touched  at  Ismarus,  the 
city  of  a  Thracian  people,  whom  he  attacked  and  plundered, 
but  by  whom  he  was  at  last  repulsed.  The  north  wind  then 
carried  his  ships  to  Malea,  the  extreme  southern  point  of 
Greece.  Had  he  doubled  Malea  safely,  he  would  probably 
have  reached  Ithaca  in  a  few  days,  would  have  found  Pene- 
lope unvexed  by  wooers,  and  Telemachus  a  boy  of  ten  years 
old.     But  this  was  not  to  be. 

The  '  ruinous  winds'  drove  Odysseus  and  his  ships  for  ten 
days,  and  on  the  tenth  they  touched  the  land  of  the  Lotus- 


XIV  INTRODUCTION, 

Eaters,  whose  flowery  food  causes  sweet  forgetfulness.  Lotus- 
land  was  possibly  in  Western  Libya,  but  it  is  more  probable 
that  ten  days'  voyage  from  the  southern  point  of  Greece, 
brought  Odysseus  into  an  unexplored  region  of  fairy-land. 
Egypt,  of  which  Homer  had  some  knowledge,  was  but  five 
days'  sail  from  Crete.  Lotus-land,  therefore,  being  ten  days'  sail 
from  Malea,  was  well  over  the  limit  of  the  discovered  world. 
From  this  country  Odysseus  went  on  till  he  reached  the 
land  of  the  lawless  Cyclopes,  a  pastoral  people  of  giants. 
Later  Greece  feigned  that  the  Cyclopes  dwelt  near  Mount 
Etna,  in  Sicily.  Homer  leaves  their  place  of  abode  in  the 
vague.  Among  the  Cyclopes,  Odysseus  had  the  adventure 
on  which  his  whole  fortunes  hinged.  He  destroyed  the  eye 
of  the  cannibal  giant,  Polyphemus,  a  son  of  Poseidon,  the 
God  of  the  Sea.  To  avenge  this  act,  Poseidon  drove 
Odysseus  wandering  for  ten  long  years,  and  only  suffered 
him  to  land  in  Ithaca,  'alone,  in  evil  case,  to  find  troubles 
in  his  house.'  This  is  a  very  remarkable  point  in  the  plot. 
The  story  of  the  crafty  adventurer  and  the  blinding  of  the 
giant,  with  the  punning  device  by  which  the  hero  escaped, 
exists  in  the  shape  of  a  detached  mdrchen  or  fairy-tale 
among  races  who  never  heard  of  Homer.  And  when  we 
find  the  story  among  Oghuzians,  Esthonians,  Basques,  and 
Celts,  it  seems  natural  to  suppose  that  these  people  did  not 
break  a  fragment  out  of  the  Odyssey,  but  that  the  author  of 
the  Odyssey  took  possession  of  a  legend  out  of  the  great 
traditional  store  of  fiction.  From  the  wide  distribution  of 
the  tale,  there  is  reason  to  suppose  that  it  is  older  than 
Homer,  and  that  it  was  not  originally  told  of  Odysseus,  but 
was  attached  to  his  legend,  as  floating  jests  of  unknown 
authorship  are  attributed  to  eminent  wits.  It  has  been 
remarked  with  truth  that  in  this  episode  Odysseus  acts  out 
of  character,  that  he  is  foolhardy  as  well  as  cunning.     Yet 


INTRODUCTION,  xv 


the  author  of  the  Odyssey,  so  far  from  merely  dove-tailing 

this  story  at  random  into  his  narrative,  has  made  his  whole 

plot  turn  on  the  injury  to  the  Cyclops.    Had  he  not  foolishly 

exposed  himself  and  his  companions,  by  his  visit  to  the 

Cyclops,  Odysseus  would  never  have  been  driven  wander- 

mg  for  ten  weary  years.    The  prayers  of  the  blinded  Cyclops  .       • 

were  heard  and  fulfilled  by  Poseidon^^^c:^    %^(ytjc:<^^^r-^  ,A^t^-^ 

From  the  land  of  the  Cyclop^OcIysseus  and  his  company 
sailed  to  the  Isle  of  Aeolus,  the  king  of  the  winds.  This 
place  too  is  undefined ;  we  only  learn  that,  even  with  the 
most  favourable  gale,  it  was  ten  days'  sail  from  Ithaca.  In 
the  Isle  of  Aeolus  Odysseus  abode  for  a  month,  and-  then 
received  from  the  king  a  bag  in  which  all  the  winds  were 
bound,  except  that  which  was  to  waft  the  hero  to  his  home. 
This  sort  of  bag  was  probably  not  unfamiliar  to  superstitious 
Greek  sailors  who  had  dealings  with  witches,  like  the  modern 
wise  women  of  the  Lapps.     The  companions  of  the  hero  , 

opened  the  bag  when  Ithaca  was  in  sight,  the  winds  rushed ^=  ^^^^ 
out,  the  ships  were  borne  back  to  the  Aeolian  Isl^f"and 
thence  the  hero  was  roughly  dismissed  by  Aeolus.     Seven 
days'  sail  brought  him  to  Lamos,  a  city  of  the  cannibal  Laes-  ^  ^/^     ' 
trygonians.     Their  country,  too,  is  in   No-man*s-land,  and 
nothing  can  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  their  fountain  ^/^t 

was  called  Artacia,  and  that  there  was  an  Artacia  in  Cyzicus.  "*"^  -^^^ 
In  Lamos  a  very  important  adventure  befel  Odysseus.  The 
cannibals  destroyed  all  his  fleet,  save  one  ship,  with  which 
he  made  his  escape  to  the  Isle  of  Circd.  Here  the  enchant- 
ress turned  part  of  the  crew  into  swine,  but  Odysseus,  by  aid 
of  the  god  Hermes,  redeemed  them,  and  became  the  lover  of 
Circ6.  This  adventure,  like  the  story  of  the  Cyclops,  is  a 
fairy  tale  of  great  antiquity.  Dr.  Gerland,  in  his  Alt  Griech- 
ischd  Mdrchen  in  der  Odyssee,  has  shown  that  the  story  makes 
part  of  the  collection  of  Somadeva,  a  store  of  Indian  tales,  of 


xvi  INTRODUCTION. 

— — ^ \ 

which  1 200  A.D.  is  the  approximate  date.    Circ^  appears  as  a 
Yackshini,  and  is  conquered  when  an  adventurer  seizes  her 
flute  whose  magic  music  turns  men  into  beasts.    The  Indian 
Circd  had  the  habit  of  eating  the  animals  into  which  she^X/^ 
transformed  men.  ^in/''''^ 

We  must  suppose  that  the  affairs  with  the  Cicones,  tne 
Lotus-eaters;  the  Cyclops,  Aeolus,  and  the  Laestrygonians, 
occupied  most  of  the  first  year  after  the  fall  of  Troy.  A 
year  was  then  spent  in  the  Isle  of  Circd,  after  which  the 
sailors  were  eager  to  make  for  home.  Circ^  commanded 
them  to  go  down  to  Hades,  to  learn  the  homeward  way  from 
the  ghost  of  the  Theban  prophet  Teiresias.  The  descent 
into  hell,  for  some  similar  purpose,  is  common  in  the  epics 
of  other  races,  such  as  the  Finns,  and  the  South-Sea  Islanders. 
The  narrative  of  Odysseus's  visit  to  the  dead  (book  xi)  is 
one  of  the  most  moving  passages  in  the  whole  poem. 

From  Teiresias  Odysseus  learned  that,  if  he  would  bring 
his  companions  home,  he  must  avoid  injuring  the  sacred 
cattle  of  the  Sun,  which  pastured  in  the  Isle  of  Thrinacia.  If 
these  were  harmed,  he  would  arrive  in  Ithaca  alone,  or  in 
the  words  of  the  Cyclops's  prayer,  'in  evil  plight,  with 
loss  of  all  his  company,  on  board  the  ship  of  strangers,  to 
find  sorrow  in  his  house.'  On  returning  to  the  Isle  Aeaean, 
Odysseus  was  warned  by  Circd  of  the  dangers  he  would 
encounter.  He  and  his  friends  set  forth,  escaped  the  Si- 
rens (a  sort  of  mermaidens),  evaded  the  Clashing  Rocks, 
which  close  on  ships  (a  fable  known  to  the  Aztecs),  passed 
Scylla  (the  pieuvre  of  antiquity)  with  loss  of  some  of  the 
company,  and  reached  Thrinacia,  the  Isle  of  the  Sun.  Here 
the  company  of  Odysseus,  constrained  by  hunger,  devoured 
the  sacred  kine  of  the  Sun,  for  which  offence  they  were 
punished  by  a  shipwreck,  when  all  were  lost  save  Odysseus. 
He  floated  ten  days  on  a  raft,  and  then  reached  the  isle  of 


•^CT76 


INTRODUCTION,   ^^^  a   "^      Xvil 


^ 


the  goddess  Calypso,  who  kept  him  as  her  lover  for  eight 
years. 

The  first  two  years  after  the  fall  of  Troy  are  now  accounted 
for.  They  were  occupied,  as  we  have  seen,  by  adventures 
with  the  Cicones,  the  Lotus-eaters,  the  Cyclops,  Aeolus,  the 
Laestrygonians,  by  a  year's  residence  with  Circ^,  by  the 
descent  into  Hades,  the  encounters  with  the  Sirens,  and 
Scylla,  and  the  fatal  sojourn  in  the  isle  of  Thrinacia.  We 
leave  Odysseus  alone,  for  eight  years,  consuming  his  own 
heart,  in  the  island  paradise  of  Calypso. 

In  Ithaca,  the  hero's  home,  things  seem  to  have  passed 
smoothly  till  about  the  sixth  year  after  the  fall  of  Troy. 
Then  the  men  of  the  younger  generation,  the  island  chiefs, 
began  to  woo  Penelope,  and  to  vex  her  son  Telemachus. 
Laertes,  the  father  of  Odysseus,  was  top  old  to  help,  and 
Penelope  only  gained  time  by  her  famous  device  of  weaving 
and  unweaving  the  web.  The  wooers  began  to  put  com- 
pulsion on  the  Queen,  quartering  themselves  upon  her,  de- 
vouring her  substance,  and  insulting  her  by.  their  relations 
with  her  handmaids.  Thus  Penelope  pined  at  home,  amidst 
her  wasting  possessions.  Telemachus  fretted  in  vain,  and 
Odysseus  was  devoured  by  grief  and  home-sickness  in  the 
isle  of  Calypso.  When  he  had  lain  there  for  nigh  eight 
years,  the  action  of  the  Odyssey  begins,  and  occupies  about 
six  weeks. 

Day  I. 

The  ordained  time  has  now  arrived,  when  by  the  counsels  of 
the  Gods,  Odysseus  is  to  be  brought  home  to  free  his  house, 
to  avenge  himself  on  the  wooers,  and  recover  his  kingdom. 
The  chief  agent  in  his  restoration  is  Pallas  Athene ;  the  first 
book  opens  with  her  prayer  to  Zeus  that  Odysseus  may  be 
delivered.  For  this  purpose  Hermes  is  to  be  sent  to 
Calypso  to  bid  her  release  Odysseus,  while  Pallas  Athene 


xviii  INTRODUCTION, 


in  the  shape  of  Mentor,  a  friend  of  Odysseus,  visits  Tele- 
machus  in  Ithaca.  She  bids  him  call  an  assembly  of  the 
people,  dismiss  the  wooers  to  their  homes,  and  his  mother 
to  her  father's  house,  and  go  in  quest  of  his  own  father,  in 
Pylos,  the  city  of  Nestor,  and  Sparta,  the  home  of  Menelaus. 
Telemachus  recognises  the  Goddess,  and  the  first  day  closes. 

Day  2. 

Telemachus  assembles  the  people,  but  he  has  not  the 
heart  to  carry  out  Athene's  advice.     He  cannot  send  the 
wooers  away,  nor  turn  his  mother  out  of  her  house.     He 
rather  weakly  appeals  to  the  wooers'  consciences,  and  an- 
nounces his  intention  of  going  to  seek  his  father.     They 
answer  with  scorn,  but  are  warned  of  their  fate,  which  is 
even  at  the  doors,  by  Halitherses.    His  prophecy  (first  made 
when  Odysseus  set  out  for  Troy)  tallies  with  the  prophecy  of 
'^  '^Teiresias,  and  the  prayer  of  the  Cyclops.     The  reader  will 
^r^  X»A^<itobserve  a  series  of  portents,  prophecies,  and  omens,  which 
v-<^   yy    grow  more  numerous  and  admonishing  as  their  doom  draws 
^^  .  nearer  to  the  wooers.     Their  hearts,  however,  are  hardened, 

and  they  mock  at  Telemachus,  who,  after  an  interview  with 
Athene,  borrows  a  ship  and  secretly  sets  out  for  Pylos.  Athene 
accompanies  him,  and  his  friends  man  his  galley. 

Day  3. 

They  reach  Pylos,  and  are  kindly  received  by  the  aged 
Nestor,  who  has  no  news  about  Odysseus.  After  sacrifice, 
Athene  disappears. 

Day  4. 

The  fourth  day  is  occupied  with  sacrifice,  and  the  talk 
of  Nestor.  In  the  evening  Telemachus  (leaving  his  ship  and 
friends  at  Pylos)  drives  his  chariot  into  Pherae,  half  way  to 
Sparta ;  Peisistratus,  the  son  of  Nestor,  accompanies  him. 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

Day  5. 

Telemachus  and  Peisistratus  arrive  at  Sparta,  where  Mene- 
laus  and  Helen  receive  them  kindly. 

Day  6. 

Menelaus  tells  how  he  himself  came  home  in  the  eighth 
year  after  the  fall  of  Troy.  He  had  heard  from  Proteus,  the 
Old  Man  of  the  Sea,  that  Odysseus  was  alive,  and  a  captive 
on  an  island  of  the  deep.  Menelaus  invites  Telemachus  to 
stay  with  him  for  eleven  days  or  twelve,  which  Telemachus 
declines  to  do.  It  will  later  appear  that  he  made  an  even 
longer  stay  at  Sparta,  though  whether  he  changed  his  mind, 
or  whether  we  have  here  an  inadvertence  of  the  poet's,  it  is 
hard  to  determine.  This  blemish  has  been  used  as  an  argu- 
ment against  the  uhity  of  authorship,  but  writers  of  all  ages 
have  made  graver  mistakes. 

On  this  same  day  (the  sixth)  the  wooers  in  Ithaca  learned 
that  Telemachus  had  really  set  out  to  '  cruise  after  his  father.* 
They  sent  some  of  their  number  to  lie  in  ambush  for  him, 
in  a  certain  strait  which  he  was  likely  to  pass  on  his  return 
to  Ithaca.  Penelope  also  heard  of  her  son's  departure,  but 
was  consoled  by  a  dream. 

Day  7. 

The  seventh  day  finds  us  again  in  Olympus.  Athene 
again  urges  the  release  of  Odysseus,  and  Hermes  is  sent  to 
bid  Calypso  let  the  hero  go.  Zeus  prophecies  that  after 
twenty  days  sailing,  Odysseus  will  reach  ScheriaT^d  the 
hospitable  Phaeacians,  a  people  akin  to  the  Gods,  who  will 
convey  him  to  Ithaca.  Hermes  accomplishes  the  message 
to  Calypso. 


XX  INTRODUCTION, 


Days  8-12-32. 

These  days  are  occupied  by  Odysseus  in  making  and 
launching  a  raft ;  on  the  twelfth  day  from  the  beginning  of 
the  action  he  leaves  Calypso's  isle.  He  sails  for  eighteen 
days,  and  on  the  eighteenth  day  of  his  voyage  (the  twenty- 
ninth  from  the  beginning  of  the  action),  he  sees  Scheria. 
Poseidon  raises  a  storm  against  him,  and  it  is  not  till  the 
thirty-second  day  from  that  in  which  Athene  visited  Tele- 
machus,  that  he  lands  in  Scheria,  the  country  of  the 
Phaeacians.  Here  he  is  again  in  fairy  land.  A  rough, 
but  perfectly  recognisable  form  of  the  Phaeacian  myth,  is 
found  in  an  Indian  collection  of  mdrchen  (already  referred 
to)  of  the  twelfth  century  a.d.  Here  the  Phaeacians  are  the 
Vidyadharis,  and  their  old  enemies  the  Cyclopes,  are  the 
Rakshashas,  a  sort  of  giants.  The  Indian  Odysseus,  who 
seeks  the  city  of  gold,  passes  by  the  home  of  an  Indian 
Aeolus,  Satyavrata.  His  later  adventures  are  confused,  and 
the  Greek  version  retains  only  the  more  graceful  fancies  of 
the  marchen. 

Day  33. 

Odysseus  meets  Nausicaa,  daughter  of  Alcinous,  the 
Phaeacian  King,  and  by  her  aid,  and  that  of  Athene,  is 
favourably  received  at  the  palace,  and  tells  how  he  came 
from  Calypso's  island.  His  name  is  still  unknown  to  his 
hosts. 

Day  34. 

The  Phaeacians  and  Odysseus  display  their  skill  in  sports. 
Nausicaa  bids  Odysseus  farewell.  Odysseus  recounts  to 
Alcinous,  and  Arete,  the  Queen,  those  adventures  in  the  two 
years  between  the  fall  of  Troy  and  his  captivity  in  the 
island  of  Calypso,  which  we  have  already  described  (pp. 
xiii-xvii). 


INTRODUCTION,  xxi 


I>AY    35. 

Odysseus  is  conveyed  to  Ithaca,  in  the  evening,  on  one  of 
the  magical  barques  of  the  Phaeacians. 

Day  36. 

He  wakens  in  Ithaca,  which  he  does  not  at  first  recognise. 
He  learns  from  Athene,  for  the  first  time,  that  the  wooers 
beset  his  house.  She  disguises  him  as  an  old  man,  and  bids 
him  go  to  the  hut  of  the  swineherd  Eumaeus,  who  is  loyal 
to  his  absent  lord.  Athene  then  goes  to  Lacedaemon,  to 
bring  back  Telemachus,  who  has  now  resided  there  for  a 
month.  Odysseus  won  the  heart  of  Eumaeus,  who  of  course 
did  not  recognise  him,  and  slept  in  the  swineherd's  hut, 
while  Athene  was  waking  Telemachus,  in  Lacedaemon,  and 
bidding  him  '  be  mindful  of  his  return.' 

Day  37. 

Is  spent  by  Odysseus  in  the  swineherd's  hut.  Telemachus 
reaches  Pherae,  half-way  to  Pylos. 

Day  38. 

Telemachus  reaches  Pylos,  but  does  not  visit  Nestor.  To 
save  time  he  goes  at  once  on  board  ship,  taking  with  him  an 
unfortunate  outlaw,  Theoclymenus,  a  second-sighted  man,  of 
the  family  of  Melampus,  in  which  the  gift  of  prophecy  was 
hereditary.  The  ship  passed  the  Elian  coast  at  night,  and 
evaded  the  ambush  of  the  wooers.  Meanwhile  Odysseus 
was  sitting  up  almost  till  dawn,  listening  to  tlie  history  of 
Eumaeus,  the  swineherd. 

Day  39. 

Telemachus  reaches  the  Isle  of  Ithaca,  sends  his  ship  to 
the  city,  but  himself,  by  advice  of  Athene,  makes  for  the  hut 


XXII  INTRODUCTION, 


of  Eumaeus,  where  he  meets,  but  naturally  does  not  recognise, 
his  disguised  father.  He  sends  Eumaeus  to  Penelope  with 
news  of  his  arrival,  and  then  Athene  reveals  Odysseus  to 
Telemachus.  The  two  plot  the  death  of  the  wooers.  Odys- 
seus bids  Telemachus  remove,  on  a  favourable  opportunity, 
the  arms  which  were  disposed  as  trophies  on  the  walls  of  the 
hall  at  home.  (There  is  a  slight  discrepancy  between  the 
words  of  this  advice  and  the  manner  in  which  it  is  afterwards 
executed.)  During  this  interview,  the  ship  of  Telemachus,  the 
wooers  who  had  been  in  ambush,  and  Eumaeus,  all  reached 
the  town  of  Ithaca.  In  the  evening  Eumaeus  returned  to  his 
hut,  where  Athene  had  again  disguised  Odysseus. 

Day  40. 

The  story  is  now  hastening  to  its  close,  and  many  events 
are  crowded  into  the  fortieth  day.  Telemachus  goes  from 
the  swineherd's  hut  to  the  city,  and  calls  his  guest,  Theocly- 
menus,  to  the  palace.  The  second-sighted  man  prophesies 
of  the  near  revenge  of  Odysseus.  In  the  afternoon,  Odys- 
seus (still  disguised)  and  Eumaeus  reach  the  city,  the  dog 
Argos  recognises  the  hero,  and  dies.  Odysseus  goes  beg- 
ging through  his  own  hall,  and  is  struck  by  Antinous,  the 
proudest  of  the  wooers.  Late  in  the  day  Eumaeus  goes 
home,  and  Odysseus  fights  with  the  braggart  beggar  Irus. 
Still  later,  Penelope  appears  among  the  wooers,  and  receives 
presents  from  them.  When  the  wooers  have  withdrawn, 
Odysseus  and  Telemachus  remove  the  weapons  from  the  hall 
to  the  armoury.  Afterwards  Odysseus  has  an  interview  with 
Penelope  (who  does  not  recognise  him),  but  he  is  recognised 
by  his  old  nurse  Eurycleia.  Penelope  mentions  her  purpose 
to  wed  the  man  who  on  the  following  day,  the  feast  of  the 
Archer-god  Apollo,  shall  draw  the  bow  of  Odysseus,  and 
send  an  arrow  through  the  holes  in  twelve  axe-blades,  set  up 
in  a  row.     Thus  the  poet  shows  that  Odysseus  has  arrived 


INTRODUCTION,  Xxiii 

in  Ithaca  not  a  day  too  soon.     Odysseus  is  comforted  by  a 
vision  of  Athene,  and 

Day  41. 
by  the  ominous  prayer  uttered  by  a  weary  woman  grinding 
at  the  mill.  The  swineherd  and  the  disloyal  Melanthius  arrive 
at  the  palace.  The  wooers  defer  the  plot  to  kill  Telemachus, 
as  the  day  is  holy  to  Apollo.  Odysseus  is  led  up  from  his 
seat  near  the  door  to  a  place  beside  Telemachus  at  the 
high  table.  The  wooers  mock  Telemachus,  and  the  second- 
sighted  Theoclymenus  sees  the  ominous  shroud  of  death 
covering  their  bodies,  and  the  walls  dripping  with  blood. 
He  leaves  the  doomed  company.  In  the  trial  of  the  bow, 
none  of  the  wooers  can  draw  it ;  meanwhile  Odysseus  has 
declared  himself  to  the  neatherd  and  the  swineherd.  The 
former  bars  and  fastens  the  outer  gates  of  the  court,  the 
latter  bids  Eurycleia  bar  the  doors  of  the  womens'  chambers 
which  lead  out  of  the  hall.  Odysseus  now  gets  the  bow  into 
his  hands,  strings  it,  sends  the  arrow  through  the  axe-heads, 
and  then  leaping  on  the  threshold  of  stone,  deals  his  shafts 
among  the  wooers.  Telemachus,  the  neatherd,  and  Eumaeus, 
aiding  him,  he  slaughters  all  the  crew,  despite  the  treachery 
of  Melanthius.  The  paramours  of  the  wooers  are  hanged, 
and  Odysseus,  after  some  delay,  is  recognised  by  Penelope. 

Day  42. 

This  day  is  occupied  with  the  recognition  of  Odysseus 
by  his  aged  father  Laertes,  and  with  the  futile  attempt  of 
the  kinsfolk  of  the  wooers  to  avenge  them  on  Odysseus. 
Athene  reconciles  the  feud,  and  the  toils  of  Odysseus  are 
accomplished. 

The  reader  has  now  before  him  a  chronologically  arranged 
sketch  of  the  action  of  the  Odyssey.  It  is,  perhaps,  apparent, 
even  from  this  bare  outline,  that  the  composition  is  elaborate 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION, 


and  artistic,  that  the  threads  of  the  plot  are  skilfully  separated 
and  combined.  The  germ  of  the  whole  epic  is  probably  the 
popular  tale,  known  all  over  the  world,  of  the  warrior  who, 
on  his  return  from  a  long  expedition,  has  great  difficulty  in 
making  his  prudent  wife  recognise  him.  The  incident  occurs 
as  a  detached  story  in  China,  and  in  most  European  countries 
it  is  told  of  a  crusader.  We  may  suppose  it  to  be  older  than 
the  legend  of  Troy,  and  to  have  gravitated  into  the  cycle  of 
that  legend.  The  years  of  the  hero's  absence  are  then  filled 
up  with  adventures  (the  Cyclops,  Circd,  the  Phaeacians,  the 
Sirens,  the  descent  into  hell)  which  exist  as  scattered  tales, 
or  are  woven  into  the  more  elaborate  epics  of  Gaels,  Aztecs, 
Hindoos,  Tartars,  South-Sea  Islanders,  Finns,  Russians, 
Scandinavians,  and  Eskimo.  The  whole  is  surrounded  with 
the  atmosphere  of  the  kingly  age  of  Greece,  and  the  result  is 
the  Odyssey,  with  that  unity  of  plot  and  variety  of  character 
which  must  have  been  given  by  one  masterly  constructive 
genius.  The  date  at  which  the  poet  of  the  Odyssey  lived 
may  be  approximately  determined  by  his  consistent  descrip- 
tions of  a  peculiar  and  definite  condition  of  society,  which 
had  ceased  to  exist  in  the  ninth  century  b.c,  and  of  a  stage  of 
art  in  which  Phoenician  and  Assyrian  influences  predominated. 
{Die  Kunsi  bet  Homer,  Brunn.)  As  to  the  mode  of  composi- 
tion, it  would  not  be  difficult  to  show  that  at  least  the  a 
priori  Wolfian  arguments  against  the  early  use  of  writing  for 
literary  purposes  have  no  longer  the  cogency  which  they 
were  once  thought  to  possess.  But  this  is  matter  for  a 
separate  investigation. 


ODYSSEY.. 

»     • 

BOOK  L'.  '! 


.*  !  •  • 

•  • »  1  *•. 


In  a  Council  of  the  Gods,  Poseidon  absent,  Pallas  procureth  an 
for  the  restitution  of  Odysseus  ;  and  appearing  to  his  son  Telemachus,  in 
human  shape,  adviseth  him  to  complain  of  the  Wooers  before  the  Council 
of  the  people,  and  then  go  to  Pylos  and  Sparta  to  inquire  about  his 
father. 

Tell  me,  Muse,  of  that  man,  so  ready  at  need,  who  wan- 
dered far  and  wide,  after  he  had  sacked  the  sacred  ^  citadel 
of  Troy,  and  many  were  the  men  whose  towns  he  saw  and 
whose  mind  he  learnt,  yea,  and  many  the  woes  he  suffered 
in  his  heart  upon  the  deep,  striving  to  win  his  own  life  and 
the  return  of  his  company.  Nay,  but  even  so  he  saved  not 
his  company,  though  he  desired  it  sore.  For  through  the 
blindness  of  their  own  hearts  they  perished,  fools,  who  de-   j  j 

voured  the  oxen  of  Helios  Hyperio?!^  but  the  god  took 
from  them  their  day  of  returning.  Of  these  things,  goddess, 
daughter  of  Zeus,  whencesoever  thou  hast  heard  thereof, 
declare  thou  even  unto  us. 

Now  all  the  rest,  as  many  as  fled  from  sheer  destruction, 
were  at  home,  and  had  escaped  both  war  and  sea,  but  Odysseus 
only,  craving  for  his  wife  and  for  his  homeward  path,  the  lady 

mph  Calypso  held,  that  fair  2  goddess,  in  her  hollow  caves, 
longing  to  have  him  for  her  lord.  But  when  now  the  year 
had  come  in  the  courses  of  the  seasons,  wherein  the  gods  had 
ordained  that  he  should  return  home  to  Ithaca,  not  even  there 
was  he  quit  of  labours,  not  even  among  his  own ;  but  all  the 
I       gods  had  pity  on  him  save  Poseidon,  who  raged  contihuaily  - 


ODYSSEY  /,  21-52. 


against  godlike  Odysseus,  till  he  came  to  his  own  country. 
Howbeit  Poseidon  had  now  departed  for  the  distant  Ethio- 
pians, the  Ethiopians  that  are  sundered  in  twain,  the  uttermost 
' ,  of- men,  abidirvg  spitte  where  Hyperion  sinks  and  some  where 
he  rises.  There  he-lboked  to  receive  his  hecatomb  of  bulls 
iind:^i?<m':j,  tbej-e  jie,  made  merry  sitting  at  the  feast,  but  the 
other  gdds  Were  gathered  in  the  halls  of  Olympian  Zeus. 
Then  among  them  the  father  of  gods  and  men  began  to  speak, 
for  he  bethought  him  in  his  heart  of  noble  Aegisthus,  whom 
the  son  :of  Agamemnon,  far-famed  Orestes,  slew.  Thinking 
upon  him  he  spake  out  among  the  Immortals : 

*  Lo  you  now,  how  vainly  mortal  men  do  blame  the  gods ! 
For  of  us  they  say  comes  evil,  whereas  they  even  of  them- 
selves, through  the  blindness  of  their  own  hearts,  have  sorrows 
/    beyond  that  which  is  ordained.     Even  as  of  late  Aegisthus, 
r        ^v  beyond  that  which  was  ordained,  took  to  him  the  wedded 
/     P  i^   wife  of  the  son  of  Atreus  and  killed  her  lord  on  his  return, 
.9    V      and  that  with  sheer  doom  before  his  eyes,  since  we  had 
^      -w)    warji£d_him  by  the  embassy  of  Hermes  the  keen-sighted,  the 
slayer  of  A^gos,  that  he  should  neither  kill  the  man,  nor  woo 
his  wife.    For  the  son  of  Atreus  shall  be  avenged  at  the  hand 
of  Orestes,  so  soon  as  he  shall  come  to  man's  estate  and  long 
for  his  own  country.    So  spake  Hermes,  yet  he  prevailed  not 
on  the  heart  of  Aegisthus,  for  all  his  good  will ;  but  now 
hath  he  paid  one  price  for  all.' 

And  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  answered  him,  saying  : 
*  O  father,  our  father  Cronides,  throned  in  the  highest ;  that 
man  assuredly  lies  in  a  death  that  is  his  due ;  so  perish 
lA^  likewise  all  who  work  such  deeds  !  But  my  heart  is  rent  for 
wise  Odysseus,  the  hapless  one,  who  far  from  his  friends  this 
long  while  suffereth  affliction  in  a  seagirt  isle,  where  is  the 
navel  of  the  sea,  a  woodland  isle,  and  therein  a  goddess 
hath    her   habitation,   the   daughter  of   the  wizard  Atlas, 


ODVSSEV  I,  52,-^3. 


who  knows  the  depths  of  every  sea,  and  himself  upholds 
the  tall  pillars  which  keep  earth  and  sky  asunder.  His 
daughter  it  is  that  holds  the  hapless  man  in  sorrow :  and 
ever  with  soft  and  guileful  tales  she  is  wooing  him  to 
forgetfulness  of  Ithaca.  But  Odysseus  yearning  to  see  if  it 
were  but  the  smoke  leap  upwards  from  his  own  land,  hath 
a  desire  to  die.  As  for  thee,  thine  heart  regardeth  it  not  at 
all,  Olympian!  What!  did  not  Odysseus  by  the  ships  of 
the  Argives  make  thee  free  offering  of  sacrifice  in  the  wide 
Trojan  land  ?  Wherefore  wast  thou  then  so  wroth  with  him, 
OZeus?' 

And  Zeus  the  cloud-gatherer  answered  her,  and  said,  *  My 
child,  what  word  hath  escaped  the  door  of  thy  lips  ^  ?  Yea, 
how  should  I  forget  divine  Odysseus,  who  in  understanding 
is  beyond  mortals  and  beyond  all  men  hath  done  sacrifice 
to  the  deathless  gods,  who  keep  the  wide  heaven  ?  Nay,  but 
it  is  Poseidon,  the  girdler  of  the  earth,  that  hath  been  wroth 
continually  with  quenchless  anger  for  the  Cyclops'  sake 
whom  he  blinded  of  his  eye,  even  godlike  Polyphemus  whose 
power  is  mightiest  amongst  all  the  Cycl6pes.  His  mother 
was  the  nymph  Thoosa,  daughter  of  Phorcys,  lord  of  the  un-: 
harvested  sea,  and  in  the  hollow  caves  she  lay  with  Poseidon. 
From  that  day  forth  Poseidon  the,  earth-shaker  doth  not 
indeed  slay  Odysseus,  but  driveth  him  wandering  from  his 
own  country.  But  come,  let  us  here  one  and  all  take  good 
counsel  as  touching  his  returning,  that  he  may  be  got  home  ; 
so  shall  Poseidon  let  go  his  displeasure,  for  he  will  in  no 
wise  be  able  to  strive  alone  against  all,  in  despite  of  all  the 
deathless  gods.' 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  answered  him,  and 
said:  *0  father,  our  father  Cronides,  throned  in  the  highest, 
if  indeed  this  thing  is  now  well  pleasing  to  the  blessed  gods, 
that  wise  Odysseus  should  return  to  his  own  home,  let  us 

B  a 


ODVSSEV  /,  84-115. 


then  speed  Hermes  the  Messenger,  the  slayer  of  Argos,  to 
the  island  of  Ogygia.  There  with  all  speed  let  him  declare  to 
the  lady  of  the  braided  tresses  our  unerring  counsel,  even 
the  return  of  the  patient  Odysseus,  that  so  he  may  come  to 
his  home.  But  as  for  me  I  will  go  to  Ithaca  that  I  may  rouse 
his  son  yet  the  more,  planting  might  in  his  heart,  to  call 
an  assembly  of  the  long-haired  Achaeans  and  speak  out 
to  all  the  wooers  who  slaughter  continually  the  sheep  of  his 
thronging  flocks,  and  his  kine  with  trailing  feet  and  sham- 
bling gait.  And  I  will  guide  him  to  Sparta  and  to  sandy 
Pylos  to  seek  tidings  of  his  dear  father's  return,  if  peradven- 
ture  he  may  hear  thereof  and  that  so  he  may  be  had  in  good 
report  among  men.' 

She  spake  and  bound  beneath  her  feet  her  lovely  golden 
sandals,  that  wax  not  old,  and  bare  her  alike  over  the  wet  sea 
and  over  the  limitless  land,  swift  as  the  breath  of  the  wind. 
And  she  seized  her  doughty  spear,  shod  with  sharp  bronze, 
weighty  and  huge  and  strong,  wherewith  she  quells  the  ranks 
of  heroes  with  whomsoever  she  is  wroth,  the  daughter  of  the 
mighty  sire.  Then  from  the  heights  of  Olympus  she  came 
glancing  down,  and  she  stood  in  the  land  of  Ithaca,  at  the 
entry  of  the  gate  of  Odysseus,  on  the  threshold  of  the  court- 
yard, holding  in  her  hapd  the  spear  of  bronze,  in  the  sem- 
blance of  a  stranger,  Mentes  the  captain  of  the  Taphians. 
And  there  she  found  the  lordly  wooers :  now  they  were 
taking  their  pleasure  at  draughts  in  front  of  the  doors,  sitting 
on  hides  of  oxen,  which  themselves  had  slain.  And  of  the 
henchmen  and  the  ready  squires,  some  were  mixing  for  them 
wine  and  water  in  bowls,  and  some  again  were  washing  the 
tables  with  porous  sponges  and  were  setting  them  forth,  and 
others  were  carving  flesh  in  plenty. 

And  godlike  Telemachus  was  far  the  first  to  descry  her, 
for  he  was  sitting  with  a  heavy  heart  among  the  wooers 


ODYSSEY  I,  115-143. 


dreaming  on  his  good  father,  if  haply  he  might  come  some- 
whence,  and  make  a  scattering  of  the  wooers  there  through- 
out the  palace,  and  himself  get  honour  and  bear  rule  among 
his  own  possessions.  Thinking  thereupon,  as  he  sat  among 
wooers,  he  saw  Athene — and  he  went  straight  to  the  outer 
porch,  for  he  thought  it  blame  in  his  heart  that  a  stranger 
should  stand  long  at  the  gates:  and  halting  nigh  her  he 
clasped  her  right  hand  and  took  from  her  the  spear  of  bronze, 
and  uttered  his  voice  and  spake  unto  her  winged  words : 

*  Hail,  stranger,  with  us  thou  shalt  be  kindly  entreated,  and 
thereafter,  when  thou  hast  tasted  meat,  thou  shalt  tell  us 
that  whereof  thou  hast  need/ 

Therewith  he  led  the  way,  and  Pallas  Athene  followed. 
And  when  they  were  now  within  the  lofty  house,  he  set  her 
spear  that  he  bore  against  a  tall  pillar,  within  the  polished 
spear-stand,  where  stood  many  spears  besides,  even  those  of 
Odysseus  of  the  hardy  heart;  and  he  led  the  goddess  and 
seated  her  on  a  goodly  carven  chair,  and  spread  a  linen  cloth 
thereunder,  and  beneath  was  a  footstool  for  the  feet.  For 
himself  he  placed  an  inlaid  seat  hard  by,  apart  from  the 
company  of  the  wooers,  lest  the  stranger  should  be  dis- 
quieted by  the  noise  and  should  have  a  loathing  for  the  meal, 
being  come  among  overweening  men,  and  also  that  he  miglht 
ask  him  about  his  father  that  was  gone  from  his  home. 

Then  a  handmaid  bare  water  for  the  washing  of  hands  in 
a  goodly  golden  ewer,  and  poured  it  forth  over  a  silver  basin 
to  wash  withal,  and  drew  to  their  side  a  polished  table. 
And  a  grave  dame  bare  wheaten  bread  and  set  it  by  them, 
and  laid  on  the  board  many  dainties,  giving  freely  of  such 
things  as  she  had  by  her.  And  a  carver  lifted  and  placed 
by  them  platters  of  divers  kinds  of  flesh,  and  nigh  them  he  set 
golden  bowls,  and  a  henchman  walked  to  and  fro  pouring 
out  to  them  the  wine. 


ODYSSEY  /,   144-174. 


Then  in  came  the  lordly  wooers ;  and  they  sat  them  down 
in  rows  on  chairs  and  on  high  seats,  and  henchmen  poured 
water  on  their  hands,  and  maidservants  piled  wheaten  bread 
by  them  in  baskets,  and  pages  crowned  the  bowls  with  drink ; 
and  they  stretched  forth  their  hands  upon  the  good  cheer 
spread  before  them.  Now  when  the  wooers  had  put  from 
them  the  desire  of  meat  and  drink,  they  minded  them  of 
other  things,  even  of  the  song  and  dance  :  for  these  are  the 
crown  of  the  feast.  And  a  henchman  placed  a  beauteous  lyre 
in  the  hands  of  Phemius,  who  w'as  minstrel  to  the  wooers 
despite  his  will.  Yea  and  as  he  touched  the  lyre  he  lifted 
up  his  voice  in  sweet  song  *. 

But  Telemachus  spake  unto  grey-eyed  Athene,  holding  his 
head  close  to  her  that  those  others  might  not  hear :  '  Dear 
stranger,  wilt  thou  of  a  truth  be  wroth  at  the  word  that  I 
shall  say  t  Yonder  men  verily  care  for  such  things  as  these, 
the  lyre  and  song,  lightly,  as  they  that  devour  the  livelihood  of 
another  without  atonement  *  of  that  man  whose  white  bones, 
it  may  be,  lie  wasting  in  the  rain  upon  the  mainland,  or  the 
billow  rolls  them  in  the  brine.  Were  but  these  men  to  see 
him  returned  to  Ithaca,  they  all  would  pray  rather  for  greater 
speed  of  foot  than  for  gain  of  gold  and  raiment.  But  now 
he  hath  perished,  even  so,  an  evil  doom,  and  for  us  is  no 
comfort,  no,  not  though  any  of  earthly  men  should  say  that 
he  will  come  again.  Gone  is  the  day  of  his  returning !  But 
come  declare  me  this,  and  tell  me  all  plainly  :  Who  art  thou 
of  the  sons  of  men,  and  whence  ?  Where  is  thy  city,  where 
are  they  that  begat  thee?  Say,  on  what  manner  of  ship 
didst  thou  come,  and  how  did  sailors  bring  thee  to  Ithaca, 
and  who  did  they  avow  themselves  to  be,  for  in  nowise  do 
I  deem  that  thou  camest  hither  by  land.     And  herein  tell 

*  Or,   according  to  the  ordinary  interpretation  of  dre^SaAXcTO :    So  he 
touched  the  chords  in  prelude  to  his  sweet  singing. 


ODVSSEV  I,  175-207. 


me  true,  that  I  may  know  for  a  surety  whether  thou  art  a 
newcomer,  or  whether  thou  art  a  guest  of  the  house,  seeing 
that  many  were  the  strangers  that  came  to  our  home,  for 
that  ^^  too  had  voyaged  much  among  men.' 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  answered  him : 
*  Yea  now,  I  will  plainly  tell  thee  all.  I  avow  me  to  be 
Mente^Tson  of  wise  Anchialus,  and  I  bear  rule  among  the 
Taphians,  lovers  of  the  oar.  And  now  am  I  come  to  shore, 
as  thou  seest,  with  ship  and  crew,  sailing  over  the  wine- dark 
sea,  unto  men  of  strange  speech;  even  to  Temesa*,  in  quest 
of  copper,  and  my  cargo  is  shining  iron.  A»d  there  my  ship 
is  lying  toward  the  upland,  away  from  the  city,  in  the  harbour 
of  Rheithron  beneath  wooded  Neion :  and  we  declare  our- 
selves to  be  friends  one  of  the  other,  and  of  houses  friendly, 
from  of  old.  Nay,  if  thou  wouldest  be  assured,  go  ask  the  old 
man,  the  hero  Laertes,  who  they  say  no  more  comes  to  the 
city,  but  far  away  toward  the  upland  suffers  affliction,  wiih 
an  ancient  woman  for  his  handmaid,  who  sets  by  him  meat 
and  drink,  whensoever  weariness  takes  hold  of  his  limbs,  as 
he  creeps  along  the  knoll  of  his  vineyard  plot.  And  now  am 
I  come ;  for  verily  they  said  that  ^e,  thy  father,  was  among 
his  people;  but  lo,  the  gods  withhold  him  from  his  way. 
For  goodly  Odysseus  hath  not  yet  perished  on  the  earth ; 
but  still,  methinks,  he  lives  and  is  kept  on  the  wide  deep 
in  a  sea-girt  isle,  and  hard  men  constrain  him,  wild  folk 
that  hold  him,  it  may  be,  sore  against  his  will.  But  now  of 
a  truth  will  I  utter  my  word  of  prophecy,  as  the  Immortals 
bring  it  into  my  heart  and  as  I  deem  it  will  be  accomplished, 
though  no  soothsayer  am  I,  nor  skilled  in  the  signs  of  birds. 
Henceforth  indeed  for  no  long  while  shall  he  be  far  from  his 
own  dear  country,  not  though  bonds  of  iron  bind  him ;  he 
will  advise  him  of  a  way  to  return,  for  he  is  a  man  of  manj' 
•  Tamasia,  in  the  mountainous  centre  of  Cypma, 


8  ODVSSEV  I,   207-236. 

devices.  But  come,  declare  me  this,  and  tell  me  all  plainly, 
whether  indeed,  so  tall  as  thou  art,  thou  art  sprung  from  the 
loins  of  Odysseus.  Thy  head  surely  and  thy  beauteous  eyes 
are  wondrous  like  to  his,  since  full  many  a  time  have  we 
held  converse  together  ere  he  embarked  for  Troy,  whither 
the  others,  aye  the  bravest  of  the  Argives,  went  in  hollow 
ships.  From  that  day  forth  neither  have  I  seen  Odysseus, 
nor  he  me.* 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  and  said  :  'Yea,  sir, 
now  will  I  plainly  tell  thee  all.  My  mother  verily  saith  that  I 
am  his ;  for  myself  I  know  not,  for  never  man  yet  knew  of 
himself  his  own  descent.  O  that  I  had  been  the  son  of  some 
blessed  man,  whom  old  age  overtook  among  his  own  posses- 
sions !  But  now  of  him  that  is  the  most  hapless  of  mortal 
men,  his  son  they  say  that  I  am,  since  thou  dost  question  me 
hereof.' 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  spake  unto  him,  and 
said  :  *  Surely  no  nameless  lineage  have  the  gods  ordained 
for  thee  in  days  to  come,  since  Penelope  bore  thee  so  goodly 
a  man.  But  come,  declare  me  this,  and  tell  it  all  plainly. 
What  feast,  nay,  what  rout  is  this?  What  hast  thou  to  do 
therewith  ?  Is  it  a  clan  drinking,  or  a  wedding  feast,  for  here 
we  have  no  banquet  where  each  man  brings  his  share  ?  In 
such  wise,  flown  with  insolence,  do  they  seem  to  me  to  revel 
wantonly  through  the  house:  and  well  might  any  man  be 
wroth  to  see  so  many  deeds  of  shame,  whatso  wise  man 
came  among  them.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  and  said  :  *  Sir,  for- 
asmuch as  thou  questionest  me  of  these  things  and  inquirest 
thereof,  our  house  was  once  like  to  have  been  rich  and  honour- 
able, while  yet  that  man  was  among  his  people.  But  now  the 
gods  willed  it  otherwise,  in  evil  purpose,  who  have  made  him 
pass  utterly  out  of  sight  as  no  man  ever  before.  Truly  I  would 


ODYSSEY  /,  236-269. 


not  even  for  his  death  make  so  great  sorrdw,  had  he  fallen 

among  his  fellows  in  the  land  of  the  Trojans,  or  in  the  arms 

of  his  friends  when  he  had  wound  up  the  clew  of  war.    Then 

would  the  whole  Achaean  host  have  builded  him  a  barrow,  and 

even  for  his  son  would  he  have  won  great  glory  in  the  after 

days.     But  now  the  spirits  of  the  storm  have  swept  him  away 

inglorious.     He  is  gone,  lost  to  sight  and  hearsay,  but  for  me 

hath  he  left  anguish  and  lamentation;  nor  henceforth  is  it  ^^ 

for  him  alone  that  I  mourn  and  weep,  since  the  gods  have  ''^^^^.,4^ 

wrought  for  me  other  sore  distress.      For  all  the  noblesj/  p(  l-</^7^ 

that  are  princes  in  the  isles,  in  Dulichium  and  Same  and 

wooded  Zacynthus,  and  as  many  as  lord  it  in  rocky  Ithaca,     , 

all  these  woo  my  mother  and  waste  my  house.     But  as  for  ^A>yA>o«^s 

her  she  neither  refuseth  the  hated  bridal,  nor  hath  the  heart  ^  axX-o^ 

to  make  an  end  :  so  they  devour  and  minish  my  house,  and  ^^jjrnn 


^-^^ 


ere  long  will  they  make  havoc  likewise  of  myself.'         rvA^^XJ  '      JL^ 

Then  in  heavy  displeasure  spake  unto  him  Pallas  Athene: 
God  help  thee !  thou  art  surely  sore  in  need  of  Odysseus 
that  is  afar,  to  stretch  forth  his  hands  upon  the  shameless 
wooers.  If  he  could  but  come  now  and  stand  at  the 
entering  in  of  the  gate,  with  helmet  and  shield  and  lances 
twain,  as  mighty  a  man  as  when  first  I  marked  him  in 
our  house  drinking  and  making  merry  what  lime  he  came 
up  out  of  Ephyra  from  Ilus  son  of  Mermerus !  For  even 
thither  had  Odysseus  gone  on  his  swift  ship  to  seek 
a  deadly  drug,  that  he  might  have  wherewithal  to  smear 
his  bronze-shod  arrows :  but  Ilus  would  in  nowise  give  it 
him,  for  he  had  in  awe  the  everliving  gods.  But  my  father 
gave  it  him,  for  he  bare  him  wondrous  love.  O  that 
Odysseus  might  in  such  strength  consort  with  the  wooers: 
so  should  they  all  have  swift  fate  and  bitter  wedlock!  How- 
beit  these  things  surely  lie  on  the  knees  of  the  gods, 
whether  he  shall  return  or  not,  and  take  vengeance  in  his 


lO  ODYSSEY  I,  269-302. 

halls.  But  r  charge  thee  to  take  counsel  how  thou  mayest 
thrust  forth  the  wooers  from  the  hall.  Come  now,  mark 
and  take  heed  unto  my  words.  On  the  morrow  call  the 
Achaean  lords  to  the  assembly,  and  declare  thy  saying  to 
all,  and  take  the  gods  to  witness.  As  for  the  wooers  bid 
them  scatter  them  each  one  to  his  own,  and  for  thy  mother, 
if  her  heart  is  moved  to  marriage,  let  her  go  back  to  the  hall 
of  that  mighty  man  her  father,  and  her  kinsfolk  will  furnish 
a  wedding  feast,  and  array  the  gifts  of  wooing  exceeding 
many,  all  that  should  go  back  with  a  daughter  dearly  be- 
loved *.  And  to  thyself  I  will  give  a  word  of  wise  counsel, 
if  perchance  thou  wilt  hearken.  Fit  out  a  ship,  the  best  thou 
hast,  with  twenty  oarsmen,  and  go  to  inquire  concerning  thy 
father  that  is  long  afar,  if  perchance  any  man  shall  tell  thee 
aught,  or  if  thou  mayest  hear  the  voice  from  Zeus,  which 
chiefly  brings  tidings  to  men.  Get  thee  first  to  Pylos  and 
inquire  of  goodly  Nestor,  and  from  thence  to  Sparta  to 
Menelaus  of  the  fair  hair,  for  he  came  home  the  last  of 
the  mail-coated  Achaeans.  If  thou  shalt  hear  news  of 
the  life  and  the  returning  of  thy  father,  then  verily  thou 
mayest  endure  the  wasting  for  yet  a  year.  But  if  thou 
shalt  hear  that  he  is  dead  and  gone,  return  then  to  thine 
own  dear  country  and  pile  his  mound,  and  over  it  pay 
burial  rites,  full  many  as  is  due,  and  give  thy  mother  to 
a  husband.  But  when  thou  hast  done  this  and  made  an 
end,  thereafter  take  counsel  in  thy  mind  and  heart,  how 
thou  mayest  slay  the  wooers  in  thy  halls,  whether  by  guile 
or  openly ;  for  thou  shouldest  not  carry  childish  thoughts, 
being  no  longer  of  years  thereto.  Or  hast  thou  not  heard 
what  renown  the  goodly  Orestes  gat  him  among  all  men 
in  that  he  slew  the  slayer  of  his  father,  guileful  Aegisthus, 
who  killed  his  famous  sire  ?  And  thou,  too,  my  friend,  for 
I  see  that  thou  art  very  comely  and  tall,  be  valiant,  that 


ODVSSEV  I,  302-333.  II 

even  men  unborn  may  praise  thee.  But  I  will  now  go 
down  to  the  swift  ship  and  to  my  men,  who  methinks  chafe 
much  at  tarrying  for  me;  and  do  thou  thyself  take  heed 
and  give  ear  unto  my  words/ 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  saying  :  '  Sir,  verily 
thou  speakest  these  things  out  of  a  friendly  heart,  as  a  father 
to  his  son,  and  never  will  I  forget  them.  But  now  I  pray 
thee  abide  here,  though  eager  to  be  gone,  to  the  end  that 
after  thou  hast  bathed  and  had  all  thy  heart's  desire,  thou 
mayst  wend  to  the  ship  joyful  in  spirit,  with  a  costly  gift  and 
very  goodly,  to  be  an  heirloom  of  my  giving,  such  as  dear 
friends  give  to  friends.' 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  answered  him :  *  Hold 
me  now  no  longer,  that  am  eager  for  the  way.  But  whatso- 
ever gift  thine  heart  shall  bid  thee  give  me,  when  I  am  on 
my  way  back  let  it  be  mine  to  carry  home  :  bear  from  thy 
stores  a  gift  right  goodly,  and  it  shall  bring  thee  the  worth 
thereof  in  return.* 

So  spake  she  and  departed,  the  grey-eyed  Athene,  and  like 
an  eagle  of  the  sea  she  flew  away,  but  in  his  spirit  she 
planted  might  and  courage,  and  put  him  in  mind  of  his 
father  yet  more  than  heretofore.  And  he  marked  the  thing 
and  was  amazed,  for  he  deemed  that  it  was  a  god ;  and  anon 
he  went  among  the  wooers,  a  godlike  man. 

Now  the  renowned  minstrel  was  singing  to  the  wooers, 
and  they  sat  listening  in  silence ;  and  his  song  was  of  the 
pitiful  return  of  the  Achaeans,  that  Pallas  Athene  laid  on 
them  as  they  came  forth  from  Troy.  And  from  her  upper 
chamber  the  daughter  of  Icarius,  wise  Penelope,  caught  the 
glorious  strain,  and  she  went  down  the  high  stairs  from  her 
chamber,  not  alone,  for  two  of  her  handmaids  bare  her  com- 
pany. Now  when  the  fair  lady  had  come  unto  the  wooers, 
she  stood  by  the  door-post  of  the  well-builded  roof  holding 


12  ODYSSEY  /,  334-357. 

up  her  glistening  tire  before  her  face ;  and  a  faithful  maiden 
stood  on  either  side  her.  Then  she  fell  a  weeping,  and 
spake  unto  the  divine  minstrel : 

*  Phemius,  since  thou  knowest  many  other  charms  for  mor- 
tals, deeds  of  men  and  gods,  which  bards  rehearse,  some  one 
of  these  do  thou  sing  as  thou  sittest  by  them,  and  let  them 
drink  their  wine  in  silence;  but  cease  from  this  pitiful 
strain,  that  ever  wastes  my  heart  within  my  breast,  since  to 
me  above  all  women  hath  come  a  sorrow  comfortless.  So 
dear  a  head  do  I  long  for  in  constant  memory,  namely,  that 
man  whose  fame  is  noised  abroad  from  Hellas  to  mid  Argos.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  and  said :  *  O  my 
mother,  why  then  dost  thou  grudge  the  sweet  minstrel  to 
gladden  us  as  his  spirit  moves  him  ?  It  is  not  minstrels  who 
are  in  fault,  but  Zeus,  methinks,  is  in  fault,  who  gives  to 
men,  that  live  by  bread  ^  to  each  one  as  he  will.  As  for  him 
it  is  no  blame  if  he  sings  the  ill-faring  of  the  Danaans; 
for  men  always  prize  that  song  the  most,  which  rings  newest 
in  their  ears.  But  let  thy  heart  and  mind  endure  to  listen,  for 
not  Odysseus  only  lost  in  Troy  the  day  of  his  returning,  but 
many  another  likewise  perished.  Howbeit  go  to  thy  chamber 
and  mind  thine  own  housewiferies,  the  loom  and  distaff,  and 
bid  thy  handmaids  ply  their  tasks.  But  speech  shall  be  for 
men,  for  all,  but  for  me  in  chief;  for  mine  is  the  lordship  in 
the  house.' 

Then  in  amaze  she  went  back  to  her  chamber,  for  she  laid 
up  the  wise  saying  of  her  son  in  her  heart.  She  ascended  to 
her  upper  chamber  with  the  women  her  handmaids,  and  then 
was  bewailing  Odysseus,  her  dear  lord,  till  grey-eyed  Athene 
cast  sweet  sleep  upon  her  eyelids. 

Now  the  wooers  clamoured  throughout  the  shadowy  halls, 
and  each  one  uttered  a  prayer  to  be  her  bedfellow.  And  wise 
Telemachus  first  spake  among  them ; 


ODYSSEY  J,  368-399.  13 

*  Wooers  of  my  mother,  men  despiteful  out  of  measure,  let 
us  feast  now  and  make  merry  and  let  there.be  no  brawling; 
for,  lo,  it  is  a  good  thing  to  list  to  a  minstrel  such  as 
him,  like  to  the  gods  in  voice.  But  in  the  morning  let  us 
all  go  to  the  assembly  and  sit  us  down,  that  I  may  declare 
my  saying  outright,  to  wit  that  ye  leave  these  halls :  and 
busy  yourselves  with  other  feasts,  eating  your  own  substance, 
going  in  turn  from  house  to  house.  But  if  ye  deem  this  a 
likelier  and  a  better  thing,  that  one  man's  goods  should 
perish  without  atonement,  then  waste  ye  as  ye  will;  and  I 
will  call  upon  the  everlasting  gods,  if  haply  Zeus  may  grant 
that  acts  of  recompense  be  made:  so  should  ye  hereafter 
perish  within  the  halls  without  atonement.' 

So  spake  he,  and  all  that  heard  him  bit  their  lips  and  mar- 
velled at  Telemachus,  in  that  he  spake  boldly. 

Then  Antinous,  son  of  Eupeithes,  answered  him :  *  Telem- 
achus, in  very  truth  the  gods  themselves  instruct  thee  to 
be  proud  of  speech  and  boldly  to  harangue.  Never  may 
Cronion  make  thee  king  in  seagirt  Ithaca,  which  thing  is  of 
inheritance  thy  right!' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  and  said :  *  Antinous, 
wilt  thou  indeed  be  wroth  at  the  word  that  I  shall  say  ?  Yea, 
at  the  hand  of  Zeus  would  I  be  fain  to  take  even  this  thing 
upon  me.  Sayest  thou  that  this  is  the  worst  hap  that  can 
befal  a  man  ?  Nay,  verily  it  is  no  ill  thing  to  be  a  king : 
the  house  of  such  an  one  quickly  waxeth  rich  and  himself  is 
held  in  greater  honour.  Howsoever  there  are  many  other 
kings  of  the  Achaeans  in  seagirt  Ithaca,  kings  young  and 
old ;  someone  of  them  shall  surely  have  this  kingship  since 
goodly  Odysseus  is  dead.  But  as  for  me,  I  will  be  lord 
of  our  own  house  and  thralls,  that  goodly  Odysseus  gat 
me  with  his  spear.' 

Then  Eurymachus,  son  of  Polybus,  answered  him,  saying : 


14  ODYSSEY  /,  400-427. 

'  Telemachus,  on  the  knees  of  the  gods  it  surely  lies,  what 
man  is  to  be  king  over  the  Achaeans  in  seagirt  Ithaca. 
But  mayest  thou  keep  thine  own  possessions  and  be  lord  in 
thine  own  house  I  Never  may  that  man  come,  who  shall 
wrest  from  thee  thy  substance  violently  in  thine  own  despite, 
while  Ithaca  yet  stands.  But  I  would  ask  thee,  friend, 
concerning  the  stranger — whence  he  is,  and  of  what  land  he 
avows  him  to  be  ?  Where  are  his  kin  and  his  native  fields? 
Doth  he  bear  some  tidings  of  thy  father  on  his  road,  or 
cometh  he  thus  to  speed  some  matter  of  his  own  ?  In  such 
wise  did  he  start  up,  and  lo,  he  was  gone,  nor  tarried  he 
that  we  should  know  him; — and  yet  he  seemed  no  mean 
man  to  look  upon*/ 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  and  said :  *  Eury- 
machus,  surely  the  day  of  my  father's  returning  hath  gone 
by.  Therefore  no  more  do  I  put  faith  in  tidings,  whence- 
soever  they  may  come,  neither  have  I  regard  unto  any 
divination,  whereof  my  mother  may  inquire  at  the  lips  of 
a  diviner,  when  she  hath  bidden  him  to  the  hall.  But  as  for 
that  man,  he  is  a  friend  of  my  house  from  Taphos,  and  he 
avows  him  to  be  Mentes,  son  of  wise  Anchialus,  and  he 
hath  lordship  among  the  Taphians,  lovers  of  the  oar.' 

So  spake  Telemachus,  but  in  his  heart  he  knew  the 
deathless  goddess.  Now  the  wooers  turned  them  to  the 
dance  and  the  delightsome  song,  and  made  merry,  and 
waited  till  evening  should  come  on.  And  as  they  made 
merry,  dusk  evening  came  upon  them.  Then  they  went 
each  one  to  his  own  house  to  lie  down  to  rest. 

But  Telemachus,  where  his  chamber  was  builded  high  up 
in  the  fair  court,  in  a  place  with  wide  prospect,  thither 
betook  him  to  his  bed,  pondering  many  thoughts  in  his 

*  The  7^/)  explains  the  expression  of  surprise  at  the  sudden  departure  of 
the  stranger. 


ODYSSEY  /,  428-444.  15 

mind ;  and  with  him  went  trusty  Eurycleia,  and  bare  for 
him  torches  burning.  She  was  the  daughter  of  Ops,  son  of 
Peisenor,  and  Laertes  bought  her  on  a  time  with  his  wealth, 
while  as  yet  she  was  in  her  first  youth,  and  gave  for  her  the 
worth  of  twenty  oxen.  And  he  honoured  her  even  as  he 
honoured  his  dear  wife  in  the  halls,  but  he  never  lay  with  her, 
for  he  shunned  the  wrath  of  his  lady.  She  went  with  Telem- 
achus  and  bare  for  him  the  burning  torches :  and  of  all  the 
women  of  the  household  she  loved  him  most,  and  she  had 
nursed  him  when  a  little  one.  Then  he  opened  the  doors  of 
the  well-builded  chamber  and  sat  him  on  the  bed  and  took 
off  his  soft  doublet,  and  put  it  in  the  wise  old  woman's  hands. 
So  she  folded  the  doublet  and  smoothed  it,  and  hung  it  on 
a  pin  by  the  jointed  bedstead,  and  went  forth  on  her  way 
from  the  room,  and  pulled  to  the  door  with  the  silver  handle, 
and  drew  home  the  bar  with  the  thong.  There,  all  night 
through,  wrapt  in  a  fleece  of  wool,  he  meditated  in  his  heart 
upon  the  journey  that  Athene  had  showed  him. 


BOOK  II. 

Telemachus  complains  in  vain,  and  borrowing  a  ship,  goes  secretly  to 
Pylos  by  night.    And  how  he  was  there  received. 

Now  SO  soon  as  early  Dawn  slione  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
the  dear  son  of  Odysseus  gat  him  up  from  his  bed,  and  put  on 
his  raiment  and  cast  his  sharp  sword  about  his  shoulder,  and 
beneath  his  smooth  feet  he  bound  his  goodly  sandals,  and 
stept  forth  from  his  chamber  in  presence  like  a  god.  And 
straightway  he  bade  the  clear-voiced  heralds  to  call  the  long- 
haired Achaieans  to  the  assembly.  And  the  heralds  called  the 
gathering,  and  the  Achaeans  were  assembled  quickly.  Now 
when  they  were  gathered  and  come  together,  he  went  on  his 
way  to  the  assembly  holding  in  his  hand  a  spear  of  bronze, — 
not  alone  he  went,  for  two  swift  hounds  bare  him  company. 
Then  Athene  shed  on  him  a  wondrous  grace,  and  all  the 
people  marvelled  at  him  as  he  came.  And  he  sat  him  in  his 
father's  seat  and  the  elders  gave  place  to  him. 

Then  the  lord  Aegyptus  spake  among  them  first;  bowed 
was  he  with  age,  and  skilled  in  things  past  number.  Now  for 
this  reason  he  spake  that  his  dear  son  had  gone  in  the  hollow 
ships  to  Ilios  of  the  goodly  steeds,  the  warrior  Antiphus ;  but 
the  savage  Cyclops  slew  him  in  his  hollow  cave,  and  made  of 
him  then  his  latest  meal.  Three  other  sons  Aegyptus  had, 
and  one  consorted  with  the  wooers,  Euryi^mus,  but  two 
continued  in  their  father's  fields ;  yet  even  so  forgat  he  not 
that  son,  still  mourning  and  sorrowing.  So  weeping  for  his 
sake  he  made  harangue  and  spake  among  them : 

'  Hearken  now  to  me,  ye  men  of  Ithaca,  to  the  word  that 
I  shall  say.     Never  hath  our  assembly  or  session  been  since 


ODYSSEY  II,  27-57.  17 

the  day  that  goodly  Odysseus  departed  in  the  hollow  ships. 
And  now  who  was  minded  thus  to  assemble  us  ?  On  what 
man  hath  such  sore  need  come,  of  the  young  men  or  of  the 
elder  born  ?  Hath  he  heard  some  tidings  of  the  host  now 
returning,  which  he  might  plainly  declare  to  us,  for  that  he 
first  learned  thereof,  or  doth  he  show  forth  and  tell  some 
other  matter  of  the  common  weal  ?  Methinks  he  is  a  true 
man— good  luck  be  with  him !  Zeus  vouchsafe  him  some 
good  thing  in  his  turn,  even  all  his  heart's  desire ! ' 

So  spake  he,  and  the  dear  son  of  Odysseus  was  glad  at 
the  omen  of  the  word ;  nor  sat  he  now  much  longer,  but  he 
burned  to  speak,  and  he  stood  in  mid  assembly;  and 
the  herald  Peisenor,  skilled  in  sage  counsels,  placed  the  staff 
in  his  hands.   Then  he  spake,  accosting  the  old  man  first : 

*01d  man,  he  is  not  far  off,  and  soon  shall  thou  know 
it  for  thyself,  he  who  called  the  folk  together,  even  I :  for 
sorrow  hath  come  to  me  in  chief.  Neither  have  I  heard 
any  tidings  of  the  host  now  returning,  which  I  may  plainly 
declare  to  you,  for  that  I  first  learned  thereof;  neither  do 
I  show  forth  or  tell  any  other  matter  of  the  common  weal, 
but  mine  own  need,  for  that  evil  hath  befallen  my  house, 
a  double  woe.  First,  I  have  lost  my  noble  sire,  who  some- 
time was  king  among  you  here,  and  was  gentle  as  a  father ; 
and  now  is  there  an  evil  yet  greater  far,  which  surely  shall 
soon  make  grievous  havoc  of  my  whole  house  and  ruin 
all  my  livelihood.  My  mother  did  certain  wooers  beset  sore 
against  her  will,  even  the  sons  of  those  men  that  here  are 
the  noblest.  They  are  too  craven  to  go  to  the  house  of 
her  father  Icarius,  that  he  may  himself  set  the  bride- 
price^  for  his  daughter,  and  bestow  her  on  whom  he  will, 
even  on  him  who  finds  favour  in  his  sight.  But  they 
resorting  to  our  house  day  by  day  sacrifice  oxen  and  sheep 
and  fat  goats,  and  keep  revel,  and  drink  the  dark  wine 

c 


l8  ODYSSEY  II,  58-87. 

recklessly,  and  lo,  our  great  wealth  is  wasted,  for  there  is  no 
man  now  alive  such  as  Odysseus  was,  to  keep  ruin  from  the 
house.  As  for  me  I  am  nowise  strong  like  him  to  ward  mine 
own ;  verily  to  the  end  of  my  days  *  shall  I  be  a  weakling 
and  all  unskilled  in  prowess.  Truly  I  would  defend  me  if 
but  strength  were  mine ;  for  deeds  past  sufferance  have  now 
been  wrought,  and  now  my  house  is  wasted  utterly  beyond 
pretence  of  right.  Resent  it  in  your  own  hearts,  and  have 
regard  to  your  neighbours  who  dwell  around,  and  tremble 
ye  at  the  anger  of  the  gods,  lest  haply  they  turn  upon  you 
in  wrath  at  your  evil  deeds  t.  I  pray  you  by  Olympian  Zeus 
"^?iy.d^-  and  by  Theirs,  who  looseth  and  gathereth  the  meetings  of 
^^^C^/cciJ^^^i  l^t  be,  my  friends,  and  leave  me  alone  to  waste  in  bitter 
(^Mh^  grief; — unless  it  so  be  that  my  father,  the  good  Odysseus,  out 
of  evil  heart  wrought  harm  to  the  goodly-greaved  Achaeans, 
in  quittance  whereof  ye  now  work  me  harm  out  of  evil  hearts, 
and  spur  on  these  men.  Better  for  me  that  ye  yourselves 
should  eat  up  my  treasures  and  my  flocks.  Were  ye  so 
to  devour  them,  ere  long  would  some  recompense  be  made, 
for  we  would  urge  our  plea  throughout  the  town,  begging 
back  our  substance,  until  all  should  be  restored.  But  now 
without  remedy  are  the  pains  that  ye  lay  up  in  my  heart/ 

So  spake  he  in  wrath,  and  dashed  the  staff  to  the  ground, 

and  brake  forth  in  tears;    and  pity  fell  on  all  the  people. 

/-^      Then  all  the  others  held  their  peace,  and   none  had  the 

'^'^^^   heart  to  answer  Telemachus  with  hard  words,  but  Antinbus 

alone  made  answer,  saying : 

*  Telemachus,  proud  of  speech  and  unrestrained  in  fury, 
what  is  this  thou  hast  said  to  put  us  to  shame,  and  wouldest 
fasten   on  us  reproach?      Behold  the  fault  is   not  in  the 

*  Cf.  B.  xxi.  131.     For  the  use  of  the  ist  pers.  pi.  like  our  royal  plural, 
cf.  B.  xvi.  44,  II.  vii.  190. 
f  Or,  lest  they  bring  your  evil  deeds  iu  wrath  on  your  own  heads. 


ODYSSEY  IT,  87-115.  19 

Achaean  wooers,  but  in  thine  own  mother,  for  she  is  the 
craftiest  of  women.  For  it  is  now  the  third  year,  and  the 
fourth  is  fast  going  by,  since  she  began  to  deceive  the  minds 
of  the  Achaeans  in  their  breasts.  She  gives  hope  to  all,  and 
makes  promises  to  every  man,  and  sends  them  messages,  but 
her  mind  is  set  on  other  things.  And  she  hath  devised  in 
her  heart  this  wile  besides ;  she  set  up  in  her  halls  a  mighty 
web,  fine  of  woof  and  very  wide,  whereat  she  would  weave, 
and  anon  she  spake  among  us : 

*"Ye  princely  youths,  my  wooers,  now  that  the  goodly 
Odysseus  is  dead,  do  ye  abide  patiently,  how  eager  soever 
to  speed  on  this  marriage  of  mine,  till  I  finish  the  robe. 
I  would  not  that  the  threads  perish  to  no  avail,  even  this 
shroud  for  the  hero  Laertes,  against  the  day  when  the  ruinous 
doom  shall  bring  him  low,  of  death  that  lays  men  at  their 
length.  So  shall  none  of  the  Achaean  women  in  the  land 
count  it  blame  in  me,  as  well  might  be,  were  he  to  lie  without 
a  winding-sheet,  a  man  that  had  gotten  great  possessions." 

*  So  spake  she,  and  our  high  hearts  consented  thereto.  So 
then  in  the  day  time  she  would  weave  the  mighty  web,  and 
in  the  night  unravel  the  same,  when  she  had  let  place  the 
torches  by  her.  Thus  for  the  space  of  three  years  she  hid  the 
thing  by  craft  and  beguiled  the  minds  of  the  Achaeans ;  but 
when  the  fourth  year  arrived  and  the  seasons  came  round, 
then  at  the  last  one  of  her  women  who  knew  all  declared  it, 
and  we  found  her  unravelling  the  splendid  web.  Thus  she 
finished  it  perforce  and  sore  against  her  will.  But  as  for  thee, 
the  wooers  make  thee  answer  thus,  that  thou  mayest  know 
it  in  thine  own  heart,  thou  and  all  the  Achaeans!  Send 
away  thy  mother,  and  bid  her  be  married  to  whomsoever  her 
father  commands,  and  whoso  is  well  pleasing  unto  her.  But 
if  she  will  continue  for  long  to  vex  the  sons  of  the  Achaeans, 
pondering  in  her  heart  those  things  that  Athene  hath  given 

c  2 


M^^ytro  xT  ^'^i^^-^"^^^*^?'-'    ^  ysA-^ 


ti^^^^^C^ 


ODYSSEY  II,   117-145.    /.'-    r/v-|^[        "^ 


her  beyond  womenXknowledge  of  all  fair  handiwork,  yea,  and 
cunning  wit,  and  wMes — so  be  it!  Sucji  wiles  as  hers  we 
have  never  yet  heard  that  any  even  of/  the  women  of  old 
did  know,  of  those  thit  aforetime  were  ^air-tressed  Achaean 
'  n.^^^.,y^jM.  ladies,  Tyrp,  and  Alt^ne,  and  Mycj^ne  with  the  bright 
^^'^^•^'^'-^^fC^rown.  Not  one  of  these  in  the  imaginations  of  their 
hearts  was  like  unto  Penelope,  yet  herein  at  least  her 
imagining  was  not  good.  For  in  despite  of  her  the  wooers 
will  devour  thy  living  and  thy  substance,  so  long  as  she  is 
steadfast  in  such  purpose  as  the  gods  now  put  within  her 
breast:  great  renown  for  herself  she  winneth,  but  for  thee 
regret  for  thy  much  livelihood.  But  we  will  neither  go  to 
our  own  lands,  nor  otherwhere,  till  she  marry  that  man 
whom  she  will  of  the  Achaeans.' 

Then  wise  Telemaehus  answered  him,  saying:  'Antinous, 
I  may  in  no  wise  thrust  forth  from  the  house,  against  her 
will,  the  woman  that  bare  me,  that  reared  me:  while  as 
for  my  father  he  is  abroad  on  the  earth,  whether  he  be 
alive  or  dead.  Moreover  it  is  hard  for  me  to  make  heavy 
restitution  to  Icarius,  as  needs  I  must,  if  of  mine  own  will  I 
send  my  mother  away.  For  I  shall  have  evil  at  his  hand,  at 
the  hand  of  her  father,  and  some  god  will  give  me  more  be- 
sides, for  my  mother  will  call  down  the  dire  Av^hgers  as  she 
departs  from  the  house,  and  I  shall  have  blame  of  men;  surely 
then  I  will  never  speak  this  word.  Nay,  if  your  own  heart, 
even  yours,  is  indignant,  quit  ye  my  halls,  and  busy  your- 
selves with  other  feasts,  eating  your  own  substance,  and  going 
in  turn  from  house  to  house.  But  if  ye  deem  this  a  likelier 
and  a  better  thing,  that  one  man's  goods  should  perish  with- 
out atonement,  then  waste  ye  as  ye  will:  and  I  will  call 
upon  the  everlasting  gods,  if  haply  Zeus  may  grant  that  acts 
of  recompense  be  made :  so  should  ye  hereafter  perish  in  the 
halls  without  atonement.' 


ODYSSEY  II,   146-176.  a  I 

So  spake  Telemachus,  and  in  answer  to  his  prayer  did 
Zeus,  of  tiie  far-borne  voice,  send  forth  two  eagles  in  flight, 
from  on  high,  from  the  mountain-crest.  Awhile  they  flew  as 
fleet  as  the  blasts  of  the  wind,  side  by  side,  with  straining 
of  their  pinions.  But  when  they  had  now  reached  the  mid 
assembly,  the  place  of  many  voices,  there  they  wheeled 
about  and  flapped  their  strong  wings,  and  looked  down  upon 
the  heads  of  all,  and  destruction  was  in  their  gaze.  Then  tore 
they  with  their  talons  each  the  other's  cheeks  and  neck  on 
every  side,  and  so  sped  to  the  right  across  the  dwellings  and  the 
city  of  the  people.  And  the  men  marvelled  at  the  birds  when 
they  had  sight  of  them,  and  pondered  in  their  hearts  the  things 
that  should  come  to  pass.  Yea  and  the  old  man,  the  lord 
Halit^rses  son  of  M^kQr  spake  among  them,  for  he  excelled 
his  peers  in  knowledge  of  birds,  and  in  uttering  words  of  fate. 
With  good  will  he  made  harangue  and  spake  among  them  : 

*  Hearken  to  me  now,  ye  men  of  Ithaca,  to  the  word  that 
I  shall  say:  and  mainly  to  the  wooers  do  I  show  forth  and 
tell  these  things,  seeing  that  a  mighty  woe  is  rolling  upon 
them.  For  Odysseus  shall  not  long  be  away  from  his  friends, 
nay,  even  now,  it  may  be,  he  is  near,  and  sowing  the  seeds  of 
death  and  fate  for  these  men,  every  one  ;  and  he  will  be  a  bane 
to  many  another  likewise  of  us  who  dwell  in  clear-seen  Ithaca. 
But  long  ere  that  falls  out  let  us  advise  us  how  we  may  make 
an  end  of  their  mischief;  yea,  let  them  of  their  own  selves 
make  an  end,  for  this  is  the  better  way  for  them,  as  will  soon 
be  seen.  For  I  prophesy  not  as  one  unproved,  but  with  sure 
knowledge;  verily,  I  say,  that  for  him  all  things  now  are 
come  to  pass,  even  as  I  told  him,  what  time  the  Argives 
embarked  for  Ilios,  and  with  them  went  the  wise  Odysseus. 
I  said  that  after  sore  affliction,  with  the  loss  of  all  his  com- 
pany, unknown  to  all,  in  the  twentieth  year  he  should  come 
home.    And  behold,  all  these  things  now  have  an  end.' 


22  ODYSSEY  II,  177-208. 

And  Euryrm-chu^  son  of  Pojybus,  answered  him,  saying; 
*  Go  now,  old  man,  get  thee  home  and  prophesy  to  thine  own 
children,  lest  haply  they  suffer  harm  hereafter  :  but  herein 
am  I  a  far  better  prophet  than  thou.  Howbeit  there  be 
many  birds  that  fly  to  and  fro  under  the  sun's  rays,  but 
all  are  not  birds  of  fate.  Now  as  for  Odysseus,  he  hath 
perished  far  away,  as  would  that  thou  too  with  him  hadst 
been  cut  off:  so  wouldst  thou  not  have  babbled  thus 
much  prophecy,  nor  wouldst  thou  hound  on  Telemachus 
that  is  already  angered,  expecting  a  gift  for  thy  house, 
if  perchance  he  may  vouchsafe  thee  aught.  But  now  will  I 
speak  out,  and  my  word  shall  surely  be  accomplished. 
If  thou  that  knowest  much  lore  from  of  old,  shalt  beguile 
with  words  a  younger  man,  and  rouse  him  to  indignation, 
first  it  shall  be  a  great  grief  to  him : — and  yet  he  can  count 
on  no  aid  from  these  who  hear  him ; — while  upon  thee,  old 
man,  we  will  lay  a  fine,  that  thou  mayest  pay  it  and  chafe  at 
heart,  and  sore  pain  shall  be  thine.  And  I  myself  will  give 
a  word  of  counsel  to  Telemachus  in  presence  of  you  all.  Let 
him  command  his  mother  to  return  to  her  father's  house; 
and  her  kinsfolk  will  furnish  a  wedding  feast,  and  array  the 
gifts  of  wooing,  exceeding  many,  all  that  should  go  back  with 
a  daughter  dearly  beloved.  For  ere  that,  I  trow,  we  sons  of 
the  Achaeans  will  not  cease  from  our  rough  wooing,  since, 
come  what  may,  we  fear  not  any  man,  no,  not  Telemachus, 
full  of  words  though  he  be,  nor  soothsaying  do  we  heed, 
whereof  thou,  old  man,  pratest  idly,  and  art  hated  yet  the 
more.  His  substance  too  shall  be  woefully  devoured,  nor  shall 
recompense  ever  be  made,  so  long  as  she  shall  put  off  the 
Achaeans  in  the  matter  of  her  marriage ;  while  we  in  expecta- 
tion, from  day  to  day,  vie  one  with  another  for  the  prize  of 
her  perfection,  nor  go  we  after  other  women  whom  it  were 
meet  that  we  should  each  one  wed.* 


ODYSSEY  II,  209-240.  «3 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying:  'Eury- 
machus,  and  ye  others,  that  are  lordly  wooers,  I  entreat 
you  no  more  concerning  this  nor  speak  thereof,  for  the 
gods  have  knowledge  of  it  now  and  all  the  Achaeans.  But 
come,  give  me  a  swift  ship  and  twenty  men,  who  shall  accom- 
plish for  me  my  voyage  to  and  fro.  For  I  will  go  to  Sparta 
and  to  sandy  Pylos  to  inquire  concerning  the  return  of  my 
father  that  is  long  afar,  if  perchance  any  man  shall  tell  me 
aught,  or  if  I  may  hear  the  voice  from  Zeus,  that  chiefly 
brings  tidings  to  men.  If  I  shall  hear  news  of  the  life  and 
the  returning  of  my  father,  then  verily  I  may  endure  the 
wasting  for  yet  a  year ;  but  if  I  shall  hear  that  he  is  dead 
and  gone,  let  me  then  return  to  my  own  dear  country, 
and  pile  his  mound,  and  over  it  pay  burial  rites  full  many 
as  is  due,  and  I  will  give  my  mother  to  a  husband.' 

So  with  that  word  he  sat  him  down;  then  in  the/'j.-cv'/ 
midst  uprose  M^Nor,  the  companion  of  noble  Odysseus. 
He  it  was  to  whoni  Odysseus,  as  he  departed  in  the  fleet,  had 
given  the  charge  over  all  his  house,  that  it  should  obey  the 
old  man,  and  that  he  should  keep  all  things  safe.  With  good 
will  he  now  made  harangue  and  spake  among  them  : 

*  Hearken  to  me  now,  ye  men  of  Ithaca,  to  the  word  that 
I  shall  say.  Henceforth  let  not  any  sceptred  king  be  kind 
and  gentle  with  all  his  heart,  nor  minded  to  do  righteously, 
but  let  him  alway  be  a  hard  man  and  work  unrighteous-  . 
ness:  for  behold,  there  is  none  that  remembereth  divine 
Odysseus  of  the  people  whose  lord  he  was,  and  was  gentle 
as  a  father.  Howsoever,  it  is  not  that  I  grudge  the  lordly 
wooers  their  deeds  of  violence  in  the  evil  devices  of  their 
heart.  For  at  the  hazard  of  their  own  heads  they  violently 
devour  the  household  of  Odysseus,  and  say  of  him  that  he 
will  come  no  more  again.  But  I  am  indeed  wroth  with 
the  rest  of  the  people,  to  see  how  ye  all  sit  thus  speechless, 


24  ODVSSEV  II,  240-270. 

and  do  not  cry  shamie  upon  the  wooers,  and  put  them  down, 
ye  that  are  so  many  and  they  so  few/ 

And  Leoc)itus,  son  of  Euenor,  answered  him,  saying: 
*  Mentor  Infatuatej  with  thy  wandering  wits,  what  word  hast 
thou  spoken,  that  callest  upon  them  to  put  us  down  ?  Nay, 
it  is  a  hard  thing  to  fight  about  a  feast,  and  that  with  men 
who  are  even  more  in  number  than  you ''.  Though  Odysseus 
of  Ithaca  himself  should  come  and  were  eager  of  heart  to 
drive  forth  from  the  hall  the  lordly  wooers  that  feast  through- 
out his  house,  yet  should  his  wife  have  no  joy  of  his  coming, 
though  she  yearns  for  him ; — but  even  there  should  he  meet 
foul  doom,  if  he  fought  with  those  that  outnumbered  him; 
so  thou  hast  not  spoken  aright.  But  as  for  the  people, 
come  now,  scatter  yourselves  each  one  to  his  own  lands, 
but  Mentor  and  Halitherses  will  speed  this  man's  voyage, 
for  they  are  friends  of  his  house  from  of  old.  Yet  after 
all,  methinks,  that  long  time  he  will  abide  and  seek  tidings 
in  Ithaca,  and  never  accomplish  this  voyage.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  in  haste  they  broke  up  the  assembly. 
So  they  were  scattered  each  one  to  his  own  dwelling,  while 
the  wooers  departed  to  the  house  of  divine  Odysseus. 

Then  Telemachus,  going  far  apart  to  the  shore  of  the  sea^ 
laved  his  hands  in  the  grey  sea  water,  and  prayed  unto 
Athene,  saying :  '  Hear  me,  thou  who  yesterday  didst  come 
in  thy  godhead  to  our  house,  and  badest  me  go  in  a  ship 
across  the  misty  seas,  to  seek  tidings  of  the  return  of  my 
father  that  is  long  gone:  but  all  this  my  purpose  do  the 
Achaeans  delay,  and  mainly  the  wooers  in  the  naughtiness  of 
their  pride.* 

So  spake  he  in  prayer,  and  Athene  drew  nigh  him  in  the 
likeness  of  Mentor,  in  fashion  and  in  voice,  and  she  spake  and 
hailed  him  in  winged  words : 

♦  Telemachus,  even  hereafter  thou  shalt  not  be  craven  or 


ODYSSEY  IT,   270-303, 


witless,  if  indeed  thou  hast  a  drop  of  thy  father's  blood  and  a  ', 
portion  of  his  spirit ;  such  an  one  was  he  to  fulfil  both  word  i 
and  work.  Nor,  if  this  be  so,  shall  thy  voyage  be  vain  or  j 
unfulfilled.  But  if  thou  art  not  the  very  seed  of  him  and  of 
Penelope,  then  have  I  no  hope  that  thou  wilt  accomplish  thy 
desire.  For  few  children,  truly,  are  like  their  father ;  lo,  the 
more  part  are  worse,  yet  a  few  are  better  than  the  sire.  But 
since  thou  shalt  not  even  hereafter  be  craven  or  witless,  nor 
hath  the  wisdom  of  Odysseus  failed  thee  quite,  so  is  there 
good  hope  of  thine  accomplishing  this  work.  Wherefore 
now  take  no  heed  of  the  counsel  or  the  purpose  of  the 
senseless  wooers,  for  they  are  in  no  way  wise  or  just :  neither 
know  they  aught  of  death  and  of  black  Jate,  which  already 
is  close  upon  them,  that  they  are  all  to  perish  in  one  day. 
But  the  voyage  on  which  thy  heart  is  set  shall  not  long  be 
lacking  to  thee — so  faithful  a  friend  of  thy  father  am  I,  who 
will  furnish  thee  a  swift  ship  and  myself  be  thy  companion. 
But  go  thou  to  the  house,  and  consort  with  the  wooers, 
and  make  ready  corn,  and  bestow  all  in  vessels,  the  wine  in 
jars  and  barley-flour,  the  marrow  of  men,  in  well-sewn  skins ; 
and  I  will  lightly  gather  in  the  township  a  crew  that  offer 
themselves  willingly.  There  are  many  ships,  new  and  old, 
in  seagirt  Ithaca ;  of  these  I  wiirchoose  out  the  best  for  thee, 
and  we  will  quickly  rig  her  and  launch  her  on  the  broad 
deep.' 

So  spake  Athene,  daughter  of  Zeus,  and  Telemachus 
made  no  long  tarrying,  when  he  had  heard  the  voice  ■  of  the 
goddess.  He  went  on  his  way  towards  the  house,  heavy 
at  heart,  and  there  he  found  the  noble  wooers  in  the 
balls,  flaying  goats  and  singeing  swine  in  the  court.  And 
Antinous  laughed  out  and  went  straight  to  Telemachus,  and 
clasped  his  hand  and  spake  and  hailed  him : 

*  Telemachus,  proud  of  speech  and  unrestrained  in  fury,  let 


25  ODYSSEY  I/,  304-336. 

no  evil  word  any  more  be  in  thy  heart,  nor  evil  work,  but 
let  me  see  thee  eat  and  drink  as  of  old.  And  the  Achaeans 
will  make  thee  ready  all  things  without  fail,  a  ship  and 
chosen  oarsmen,  that  thou  mayest  come  the  quicker  to  fair 
Pylos,  to  seek  tidings  of  thy  noble  father/ 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying,  *Antinous, 
in  no  wise  in  your  proud  company  can  I  sup  in  peace,  and 
make  merry  with  a  quiet  mind.  Is  it  a  little  thing,  ye  wooers, 
that  in  time  past  ye  wasted  many  good  things  of  my  getting, 
while  as  yet  I  was  a  child?  But  now  that  I  am  a  man 
grown,  and  learn  the  story  from  the  lips  of  others,  and  my 
spirit  waxeth  within  me,  I  will  seek  to  let  loose  upon  you 
evil  fates,  as  I  may,  going  either  to  Pylos  for  help,  or  abiding 
here  in  this  township.  Yea,  I  will  go,  nor  vain  shall  the 
voyage  be  whereof  I  speak ;  a  passenger  on  another's  ship 
go  I,  for  I  am  not  to  have  a  ship  nor  oarsmen  of  mine 
own ;   so  in  your  wisdom  ye  have  thought  it  for  the  better.' 

He  spake  and  snatched  his  hand  from  out  the  hand  of 
Antinous,  lightly,  and  all  the  while  the  wooers  were  busy  feast- 
ing through  the  house ;  and  they  mocked  him  and  sharply 
taunted  him,  and  thus  would  some  proud  youth  speak : 

*  In  very  truth  Telemachus  planneth  our  destruction.  He 
will  bring  a  rescue  either  from  sandy  Pylos,  or  even  it  may 
be  from  Sparta,  so  Jternbly,  is  he  set  on  slaying  us.  Or  else 
he  will  go  to  Epifiyxa,  alfuuful  land,  to  fetch  a  poisonous  drug 
that  he  may  casf  it  into  the  bowl  and  make  an  end  of  all 
of  us.' 

And  again  another  proud  youth  would  say :  *  Who  knows 
but  that  he  himself  if  he  goes  hence  on  the  hollow  ship,  may 
perish  wandering  far  from  his  friends,  even  as  Odysseus  ?  So 
should  we  have  yet  more  ado,  for  then  must  we  divide  among 
us  all  his  substance,  and  moreover  give  the  house  to  his 
mother  to  possess  it,  and  to  him  whosoever  should  wed  her.' 


ODYSSEY  II,  ^'^7-^6'j.  27 

So  spake  they;  but  he  stepped  down  into  the  vaulted 
treasure-chamber  of  his  father,  a  spacious  room,  where  gold 
and  bronze  lay  piled,  and  raiment  in  coffers,  and  fragrant 
olive  oil  in  plenty.  And  there  stood  casks  of  sweet  wine  and 
old,  full  of  the  unmixed  drink  divine,  all  orderly  ranged  by 
the  wall,  ready  if  ever  Odysseus  should  come  home,  albeit 
after  travail  and  much  pain.  And  the  close-fitted  doors,  the 
folding  doors,  were  shut,  and  night  and  day  there  abode  within 
a  dame  in  charge,  who  guarded  all  in  the  fulness  of  her 
wisdom,  Eivrs^^^^i^'  daughter  of  Ops  son  of  Peisenor.  Telem- 
achus  now  called  her  into  the  chamber  and  spake  unto  her, 
saying : 

'Mother,  come  draw  off  for  me  sweet  wine  in  jars,  the 
choicest  next  to  that  thou  keepest  mindful  ever  of  that  ill- 
fated  one,  Odysseus,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  if  perchance  he 
may  come  I  know  not  whence,  having  avoided  death  and  the 
fates.  So  fill  twelve  jars,  and  close  each  with  his  lid,  and 
pour  me  barley-meal  into  well-sewn  skins,  and  let  there  be 
twenty  measures  of  the  grain  of  bruised  barley-meal.  Let 
none  know  this  but  thyself!  As  for  these  things  let  them  all 
be  got  together ;  for  in  the  evening  I  will  take  them  with  me, 
at  the  time  that  my  mother  hath  gone  to  her  upper  chamber 
and  turned  her  thoughts  to  sleep.  Lo,  to  Sparta  I  go  and 
to  sandy  Pylos  to  seek  tidings  of  my  dear  father's  return, 
if  haply  I  may  hear  thereof.' 

So  spake  he,  and  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  wailed  aloud, 
and  making  lament  spake  to  him  winged  words :  *  Ah,  where- 
fore, dear  child,  hath  such  a  thought  arisen  in  thine  heart  ? 
How  shouldst  thou  fare  over  wide  lands,  thou  that  art  an 
only  child  and  well-beloved .?  As  for  him  he  hath  perished, 
Odysseus  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  far  from  his  own  country  in 
the  land  of  strangers.  And  yonder  men,  so  soon  as  thou  art 
gone,  will  devise  mischief  against  thee  thereafter,  that  thou 


28  ODYSSEY  IT,  368-397. 

mayest  perish  by  guile,  and  they  will  share  among  them  all 
this  wealth  of  thine.  Nay,  abide  here,  settled  on  thine  own 
lands:  thou  hast  no  need  upon  the  deep  unharvested  to 
suffer  evil  and  go  wandering/ 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  saying:  *Take 
heart,  nurse,  for  lo,  this  my  purpose  came  not  but  of  a  god. 
But  swear  that  thou  wilt  not  tell  it  to  my  dear  mother, 
till  at  least  it  shall  be  the  eleventh  or  twelfth  day  from 
hence,  or  till  she  miss  me  of  herself,  and  hear  of  my 
departure,  that  so  she  may  not  mar  her  fair  face  with  her 
tears.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  the  old  woman  sware  a  great  oath  by 
the  gods  not  to  reveal  it.  But  when  she  had  sworn  and  done 
that  oath,  straightway  she  drew  off  the  wine  for  him  in  jars, 
and  poured  barley-meal  into  well-sewn  skins,  and  Telem- 
achus departed  to  the  house  and  consorted  with  the  wooers. 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  turned  to  other 
thoughts.  In  the  likeness  of  Telemachus  she  went  all  through 
the  city,  and  stood  by  each  one  of  the  men  and  spake  her 
saying,  and  bade  them  gather  at  even  by  the  swift  ship. 
Furthermore,  she  craved  a  swift  ship  of  Noe^n,  famous 
son  of  Phronius,  and  right  gladly  he  promised  it. 

Now  the  sun  sank  and  all  the  ways  were  darkened.  Then 
at  length  she  let  drag  the  swift  ship  to  the  sea  and  stored 
within  it  all  such  tackling  as  decked  ships  carry.  And 
she  moored  it  at  the  far  end  of  the  harbour  and  the  good 
company  was  gathered  together,  and  the  goddess  cheered 
on  all. 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  turned  to  other 
thoughts.  She  went  on  her  way  to  the  house  of  divine 
Odysseus ;  and  there  she  shed  sweet  sleep  upon  the  wooers 
and  made  them  distraught  in  their  drinking,  and  cast  the  cups 
from  their  hands.     And  they  arose  up  to  go  to  rest  through- 


ODYSSEY  II,   397-429.  29 

out  the  city,  nor  sat  they  yet  a  long  while,  for  slumber 
was  falling  on  their  eyelids.  Now  grey-eyed  Athene  spake 
unto  Telemachus,  and  called  him  from  out  the  fair-lying 
halls,  taking  the  likeness  of  Mentor,  both  in  fashion  and 
in  voice: 

*  Telemachus,  thy  goodly-greaved  companions  are  sitting 
already  at  their  oars,  it  is  tHy  cTespatch  they  are  awaiting.  Nay 
then,  let  us  go,  that  we  delay  them  not  long  from  the  way.' 

Therewith  Pallas  Athene  led  the  way  quickly,  and  he 
followed  hard  in  the  steps  of  the  goddess.  Now  when  they 
had  come  down  to  the  ship  and  to  the  sea,  they  found  the 
long-haired  youths  of  the  company  on  the  shore ;  and  the 
mighty  prince  Telemachus  spake  among  them : 

*  Come  hither,  friends,  let  us  carry  the  corn  on  board,  for 
all  is  now  together  in  the  room,  and  my  mother  knows 
nought  thereof,  nor  any  of  the  maidens  of  the  house  :  one 
woman  only  heard  my  saying.' 

Thus  he  spake  and  led  the  way,  and  they  went  with  him. 
So  they  brought  all  and  stowed  it  in  the  decked  ship, 
according  to  the  word  of  the  dear  son  of  Odysseus.  Then 
Telemachus  climbed  the  ship,  and  Athene  went  before  him, 
and  behold,  she  sat  her  down  in  the  stern,  and  near  her  sat 
Telemachus.  And  the  men  loosed  the  hawsers  and  climbed 
on  board  themselves,  and  sat  down  upon  the  benches.  And 
grey-eyed  Athene  sent  them  a  favourable  gale,  a  fresh  West 
Wind,  singing  over  the  wine- dark  sea. 

And  Telemachus  called  unto  his  company  and  bade  them 
lay  hands  on  the  tackling,  and  they  hearkened  to  his  call. 
So  they  raised  the  mast  of  pine  tree  and  set  it  in  the  hole  of 
the  cross  plank,  and  made  it  fast  with  forestays,  and  hauled 
up  the  white  sails  with  twisted  ropes  of  oxhide.  And  the 
wind  filled  the  belly  of  the  sail,  and  the  dark  wave  seethed 
loudly  round  the  stem  of  the  running  ship,  and  she  fleeted 


30  ODYSSEY  II,  429-434. 

over  the  wave,  accomplishing  her  path.  Then  they  made  all 
fast  in  the  swift  black  ship,  and  set  mixing  bowls  brimmed 
with  wine,  arid  poured  drink  offering  to  the  deathless  gods 
that  are  from  everlasting,  and  in  chief  to  the  grey-eyed 
daughter  of  Zeus.  So  all  night  long  and  through  the 
dawn  the  ship  cleft  her  way. 


BOOK  m. 

Nestor  entertains  Telemachus  at  Pylos  and  tells  him  how  the  Greeks  departed 
from  Troy ;  and  sends  him  for  further  information  to  Sparta. 

Now  the  sun  arose  and  left  the  lovely  mere,  speeding  to 
the  brazen  heaven,  to  give  light  to  the  immortals  and  to 
mortal  men  on  the  earth,  the  graingiver,  and  they  reached  fQl^n^  ^rL 
Pylos,  the  stabhshed  castle  of  Neleus.    There  the  people  were        'f^/U[Uu, 
doing  sacrifice  on  the  sea  shore,  slaying  black  bulls  with-       j^^^^f^^ 
out  spot  to  the  dark-haired  god,  the  shaker  of  the   earth.      ^-^v^  ^ 
Nine  companies  there  were,  and  five  hundred  men  sat  in^^    -v  f, 
each,  and  in  every  company  they  held  nine  bulls  ready  to      1^  J^' 
jiand.     Just  as  they  had  tasted  the  inner  parts,  and  were 
burning  the  slices  of  the  thighs  on  the  altar  to  the  god,  the 
others  were  bearing  straight  to  land,  and  brailed  up  the  sails  ;   _ 

of  the  gallant  ship,  and  moored  her,  and  themselves  came 
forth.  And  Telemachus  too  stept  forth  from  the  ^hip,  and 
Athene  led  the  way.  And  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene, 
spake  first  to  him,  saying  : 

*  Telemachus,  thou  needest  not  now  be  abashed,  no,  not 
one  whit.  For  to  this  very  end  didst  thou  sail  over  the  deep, 
that  thou  mightest  hear  tidings  of  thy  father,  even  where  the 
earth  closed  over  him,  and  what  manner  of  death  he  met. 
But  come  now,  go  straight  to  Nestor,  tamer  of  horses :  let 
us  learn  what  counsel  he  hath  in  the  secret  of  his  heart. 
And  beseech  him  thyself  that  he  may  give  unerring  answer ; 
and  he  will  not  lie  to  thee,  for  he  is  very  wise.' 

The  wise  Telemachus  answered,  saying  :  *  Mentor,  and  how 
shall  I  go,  how  shall  I  greet  him,  I,  who  am  untried  in 


32  ODYSSEY  III,  23-54. 

words  of  wisdom?     Moreover  a  young  man  may  well  be 
abashed  to  question  an  elder/ 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  spake  to  him  again : 
*  Telemachus,  thou  shalt  bethink  thee  of  somewhat  in  thine 
own  breast,  and  somewhat  the  god  will  give  thee  to  say. 
For  thou,  methinks,  of  all  men  wert  not  born  and  bred 
without  the  will  of  the  gods.' 

So  spake  Pallas  Athene  and  led  the  way  quickly ;  and  he 
followed  hard  in  the  steps  of  the  goddess.  And  they  came 
to  the  gathering  and  the  session  of  the  men  of  Pylos.  There 
was  Nestor  seated  with  his  sons,  and  round  him  his  com- 
pany making  ready  the  feast,  and  roasting  some  of  the 
flesh  and  spitting  other.  Now  when  they  saw  the  strangers, 
they  went  all  together,  and  clasped  their  hands  in  welcome, 
and  would  have  them  sit  down.  First  Peisistratus,  son  of 
Nestor,  drew  nigh,  and  took  the  hands  of  each,  and  made 
them  to  sit  down  at  the  feast  on  soft  fleeces  upon  the  sea 
sand,  beside  his  brother  Thrasymedes  and  his  father.  And 
he  gave  them  messes  of  the  inner  meat,  and  poured  wine 
into  a  golden  cup,  and  pledging  her,  he  spake  unto  Pallas 
JL    £  JL    ^^^^^^>  daughter  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the  a.egis: 

(I'vLava.  '  ^^^y  "°^'  ^y  g"6st,  to  the  lord  Poseidon,  even  as  it  is 
^^(2  joyJ)  ^^^  ^^^^^  whereon  ye  have  chanced  in  coming  hither.  And 
I    U  when  thou  hast  made  drink-offering  and  prayed,  as  is  due, 

give  thy  friend  also  the  cup  of  honeyed  wine  to  make  offering 
V  thereof,  inasmuch  as  he  too,  methinks,  prayeth  to  the  death- 
less gods,  for  all  men  stand  in  need  of  the  gods.  Howbeit 
he  is  younger  and  mine  own  equal  in  years,  therefore  to 
thee  first  will  I  give  the  golden  chalice.' 

Therewith  he  placed  in  her  hand  the  cup  of  sweet  wine 
And  Athene  rejoiced  in  the  wisdom  and  judgment  of  the  man, 
in  that  he  had  given  to  her  first  the  chalice  of  gold.  And 
straightway  she  prayed,  and  that  instantly,  to  the  lord  Poseidon: 


ODYSSEY  III,  55-85. 


*  Hear  me,  Poseidon,  girdler  of  the  earth,  and  grudge  not 
the  fulfilment  of  this  labour  in  answer  to  our  prayer.  To 
Nestor  first  and  to  his  sons  vouchsafe  renown,  and  thereafter 

grant  to  all  the  people  of  Pylos  a  gracious  recompense  for'  ^^^  *' 
this  splendid  hecatomb.     Grant  moreover  that  Telemachus^V  ^  ^^  ^ 
and  I   may  return,  when  we   have   accomplished  that  for       ,  ^r^^  z^i/ti, 
which  we  came  hither  with  our  swift  black  ship.' 

Now  as  she  prayed  on  this  wise,  herself  the  while  was  ful- 
filling the  prayer.  And  she  gave  Telemachus  the  fair  double 
cup ;  and  in  like  manner  prayed  the  dear  son  of  Odysseus. 
Then,  when  the  others  had  roasted  the  outer  parts  and  drawn 
them  off  the  spits,  they  divided  the  messes  and  shared  the 
glorious  feast.  But  when  they  had  put  from  them  the  desire 
of  meat  and  drink,  Nestqr^fjGerenia,  lord  of  chariots,  first 
spake  among  them: 

*  Now  is  the  better  time  to  enquire  and  ask  of  the  strangers 
who  they  are,  now  that  they  have  had  their  delight  of  food. 
Strangers,  who  are  ye  ?  Whence  sail  ye  over  the  wet  ways  ? 
On  some  trading  enterprise,  or  at  adventure  do  ye  rove,  even 
as  sea-robbers,  over  the  brine,  for  they  wander  at  hazard  of 
their  own  lives  bringing  bale  to  alien  men  ? ' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him  and  spake  with 
courage,  for  Athene  herself  had  put  boldness  in  his  heart, 
that  he  might  ask  about  his  father  who  was  afar,  and 
that  he  might  be  had  in  good  report  among  men : 

'  Nestor,  son  of  Neleus,  great  glory  of  the  Achaeans,  thou 
askest  whence  we  are,  and  I  will  surely  tell  thee  all.  We 
have  come  forth  out  of  Ithaca  that  is  below  Nei'on ;  and  this 
our  quest  whereof  I  speak  is  a  matter  of  mine  own,  and  not 
of  the  common  weal.  I  follow  after  the  far-spread  rumour 
of  my  father,  if  haply  I  may  hear  thereof,  even  of  the  goodly 
steadfast  Odysseus,  who  upon  a  time,  men  say,  fought  by 
thy  side  and  sacked  the  city  of  the  Trojans.     For  of  all 

D 


34  ODYSSEY  III,  86-1 1 8. 

the  others,  as  many  as  warred  with  the  Trojans,  we  hear 
tidings,  and  where  each  one  fell  by  a  pitiful  death;  but 
even  the  death  of  this  man  Cronion  hath  left  untold.  For 
none  can  surely  declare  the  place  where  he  hath  perished, 
whether  he  was  smitten  by  foemen  on  the  mainland,- or 
lost  upon  the  deep  among  the  waves  of  Amphi^ritel  So 
now  am  I  come  hither  to  thy  knees,  if  perchance  thou  art 
willing  to  tell  me  of  his  pitiful  death,  as  one  that  saw  it  with 
thine  own  eyes,  or  heard  the  story  from  some  other  wan- 
derer,—  for  his  mother  bare  him  to  exceeding  sorrow. 
And  speak  me  no  soft  words  in  ruth  or  pity,  but  tell  me 
plainly  what  sight  thou  didst  get  of  him.  Ah !  I  pray  thee, 
if  ever  at  all  my  father,  noble  Odysseus,  made  promise  to 
thee  of  word  or  work,  and  fulfilled  the  same  in  the  land 
of  the  Trojans,  where  ye  Achaeans  suffered  affliction ;  these 
things,  I  pray  thee,  now  remember  and  tell  me  truth.' 

Then  Nestor  of  Gerenia,  lord  of  chariots,  answered  him : 
*  My  friend,  since  thou  hast  brought  sorrow  back  to  mind, 
behold,  this  is  the  story  of  the  woe  which  we  endured  in  that 
land,  we  sons  of  the  Achaeans,  unrestrained  in  fury,  and  of  all 
that  we  bore  in  wanderings  after  spo-il,  sailing  with  our  ships 
over  the  misty  deep,  wheresoever  Achilles  led ;  and  of  all  our 
war  round  the  mighty  burg  of  king  Pridn.  Yea  and  there 
the  best  of  us  were  slain.  There  lies  valiant  Aias,  and  there 
Achilles,  and  there  Patroclus,  the  peer  of  the  gods  in  counsel, 
and  there  my  own  dear  son,  strong  and  noble,  Antilochus, 
that  excelled  in  speed  of  foot  and  in  the  fight.  And  many 
other  ills  we  suffered  beside  these ;  who  of  mortal  men 
could  tell  the  tale  ?  Nay  none,  though  thou  wert  to  abide 
here  for  five  years,  ay  and  for  six,  and  ask  of  all  the  ills 
which  the  goodly  Achaeans  then  endured.  Ere  all  was 
told  thou  wouldst  be  weary  and  turn  to  thine  own 
country.    For  nine  whole  years  we  were  busy  about  them, 


ODYSSEY  III,   119^150.  35 

devising  their  ruin  with  all  manner  of  craft;  and  scarce 
did  Cronion  bring  it  to  pass.  There  never  a  man  durst 
match  with  him  in  wisdom,  for  goodly  Odysseus  very  far 
outdid  the  rest  in  all  manner  of  craft,  Odysseus  thy  father, 
if  indeed  thou  art  his  son, — amazement  comes  upon  me 
as  I  look  at  thee;  for  verily  thy  speech  is  like  imto  his; 
none  would  say  that  a  younger  man  would  speak  so  like  an 
elder.  Now  look  you,  all  the  while  that  myself  and  goodly 
Odysseus  were  there,  we  never  spake  diversely  either  in  the 
assembly  or  in  the  council,  but  always  were  of  one  mind,  > 

and  advised  the  Argives  with  understanding  and  sound/- ^^A^^-^--'^^^ 
counsel,  how  all  might  be  for  the  very  best.  But  after  we 
had  sacked  the  steep  city  of  Priam,  and  had  departed  in  our 
ships,  and  a  god  had  scattered  the  Achaeans,  even  then 
did  Zeus  devise  in  his  heart  a  pitiful  returning  for  the 
Argives,  for  in  no  wise  were  they  all  discreet  or  just. 
Wherefore  many  of  them  met  with  an  ill  faring  by  reason 
of  the  deadly  wrath  of  the  grey-eyed  goddess,  the  daughter 
of  the  mighty  sire,  who  set  debate  between  the  two  sons 
of  Atf^us.  And  they  twain  called  to  the  gathering  of  the  f^ 
host  all  the  Achaeans,  recklessly  and  out  of  order,  against' 
the  going  down  of  the  sun;  and  lo,  the  sons  of  the 
Achaeans  came  heavy  with  wine.     And  the  Atreidae  spake  S    ,  ci^ 

out  and  told  the  reason  wherefore  they  had  assembled  the^., 
host.  Then  verily  Menelaus  charged  all  the  Achaeans  toAu.t 
bethink  them  of  returning  over  the  broad  back  of  the  sea, 
but  in  no  sort  did  he  please  Agamemnon,  whose  desire  was 
to  keep  back  the  host  and  to  offer  holy  hecatombs,  that  so 
he  might  appease  that  dread  wrath  of  Athene.  Fool !  for 
he  knew  not  this,  that  she  was  never  to  be  won;  for  the 
mind  of  the  everlasting  gods  is  not  lightly  turned  to  repent- 
ance. So  these  twain  stood  bandying  hard  words ;  but  the 
goodly -greaved  Achaeans  sprang  up  with  a  wondrous  din, 

D  a 


35  ODYSSEV  III,  150-182. 


and  twofold  counsels  found  favour  among  them.  So  that 
one  night  we  rested,  thinking  hard  things  against  each  other, 
for  Zeus  was  fashioning  for  us  a  ruinous  doom.  But 
in  the  morning,  we  of  the  one  part  drew  our  ships  to  the 
fah'  salt  sea,  and  put  our  wealth  aboard,  and  the  low- 
girdled  Trojan  women.  Now  one  half  the  people  abode 
steadfastly  there  with  Agamemnon,  son  of  Atreus,  shepherd 
of  the  host ;  and  half  of  us  embarked  and  drave  to  sea  and 
swiftly  the  ships  sailed,  for  a  god  made  smooth  the  sea  with 
the  depths  thereof.  And  when  we  came  to  Tenedos,  we  did  -^*^_^ 
sacrifice  to  the  gods,  being  eager  for  the  homeward  way;  but  tj^L^mA 
Zeus  did  not  yet  purpose  our  returning,  nay,  hard  was  he,  y 
that  roused  once  more  an  evil  strife  among  us.  Then  some  ^ 
turned  back  their  curved*  ships,  and  went  their  way,  even 
the  company  of  Odysseus,  the  wise  and  manifold  in  counsel, 
once  again  showing  a  favour  to  Agamemnon,  son  of  Atreus. 
But  I  fled  on  with  the  squadron  that  followed  me,  for  I  knew 
how  now  the  god  imagined  mischief.  And  the  warlike  son 
of  Tydeus  fled  and  roused  his  men  thereto.  And  late  in  our 
track  came  Menelaus  of  the  fair  hair,  who  found  us  in 
Lesbcfe',  considering  about  the  long  voyage,  whether  we  should 
go  sea- ward  of  craggy  Chids,  by  the  isle  of  Psyria,  keeping 
the  isle  upon  our  left,  or  inside  Chios  past  windy  Mimfis. 
So  we  asked  the  god  to  show  us  a  sign,  and  a  sign  he 
declared  to  us,  and  bade  us  cleave  a  path  across  the  middle 
sea  to  Euboea,  that  we  might  flee  the  swiftest  way  from  sorrow. 
And  a  shrill  wind  arose  and  blew,  and  the  ships  ran  most 
fleetly  over  the  teeming  ways,  and  in  the  night  they  touched 
at  Geraesrus.  So  there  we  sacrificed  many  thighs  of  bulls 
to  Poseidon,  for  joy  that  we  had  measured  out  so  great 
a  stretclv.of  sea.  It  was  the  fourth  day  when  the  company 
of  Diom^de  son  of  Tydeus,  tamer  of  horses,  moored  their 
gallant  ships  at  Argos;  but  I  held  on  for  Pylos,  and  the 


V   \^\ 


I  0^' 


^^^ 


onvssEv  ///,  182-215.  37 

breeze  was  never  quenched  from  the  hour  that  the  god  sent 

it  forth  to  blow.   Even  so  I  came,  dear  child,  without  tidings, 

nor  know  I  aught  of  those  others,  which  of  the  Achaeans 

were  saved  and  which  were  lost.     But  all  that  I  hear  tell  of 

as  I  sit  in  our  halls,  thou  shalt  learn  as  it  is  meet,  and  I  will  ^^ 

hide  nothing  from  thee.     Safely,  they  say,  came  the  IMyrmf-c  r^i'     ^^ 

dons  the  wild  spearsmen,  whom  the  famous  son  of  high-  '^^'^'^^^"'TX^ 

souled  Achilles  led;  and  safely  Philoctjfetes,  the  glorious  son  ns^-UJi^  ^ 

of  Poias.   And  Idomer^us  brought  all  his  company  to  Crete,  •^L^t-^-^^'^ 

all  that  escaped  the  war,  and  from  him  the  sea  gat  none.   '^H  2^^*^ 

And  of  the  son  of  Atreus  even  yourselves  have  heard,  far 

apart  though  ye  dwell,  how  he  came,  and  how  Aegisthus  ^  ^"  "'^^^^t 

devised  his  evil  end ;  but  verily  he  himself  paid  a  terrible    '^^-^^^'^^ 

reckoning.     So  good  a  thing  it  is  that  a  son  of  the  dead 

should  still  be  left,  even  as  that  son  also  took  vengeance  on  the  ^ 

slayer  of  his  father,  guileful  Aegisthus,  who  slew  his  famous  * 

sire.    And  thou  too,  my  friend,  for  I  see  thee  very  comely 

and  tall,  be  valiant,  that  even  men  unborn  may  praise  thee/ 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  and  said :  '  Nestor, 
son  of  Neleus,  great  glory  of  the  Achaeans,  verily  and  indeed 
he  avenged  himself,  and  the  Achaeans  shall  noise  his  fame 
abroad,  that  even  those  may  hear  who  are  yet  for  to  be.  Oh 
that  the  gods  would  clothe  me  with  such  strength  as  his,  that 
I  might  take  vengeance  on  the  wooers  for  their  cruel  trans- 
gression, who  wantonly  devise  against  me  infatuate  deeds! 
But  the  gods  have  woven  for  me  the  web  of  no  such  weal,  for 
me  or  for  my  sire.     But  now  I  must  in  any  wise  endure  it.' 

Then  Nestor  of  Gerenia,  lord  of  chariots,  made  answer: 
'Dear  friend,  seeing  thou  dost  call  these  things  to  my  re- 
membrance and  speak  thereof,  they  tell  me  that  many  wooers 
for  thy  mother's  hand  plan  mischief  within  the  halls  in  thy 
despite.  Say,  dost  thou  willingly  submit  thee  to  oppression, 
or  do  the  people  through  the  land  hate  thee,  obedient  to  the 


33  ODYSSEY  III,  216-245. 

voice  of  a  god  ?  Who  knows  but  that  Odysseus  may  some 
day  come  and  requite  their  violence,  either  himself  alone  or 
all  the  host  of  the  Achaeans  with  him  ?  Ah,  if  but  grey-eyed 
Athene  were  inclined  to  love  thee,  as  once  she  cared  exceed- 
ingly for  the  renowned  Odysseus  in  the  land  of  the  Trojans, 
where  we  Achaeans  were  sore  afflicted, — for  never  yet  have 
I  seen  the  gods  show  forth  such  manifest  love,  as  then  did 
Pallas  Athene  standing  manifest  by  him, — if  she  would  be 
pleased  so  to  love  thee  and  to  care  for  thee,  then  might 
certain  of  them  clean  forget  their  marriage.' 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  *  Old  man, 
in  no  wise  methinks  shall  this  word  be  accomplished.  This 
is  a  hard  saying  of  thine,  awe  comes  over  me.  Not  for  my 
hopes  shall  this  thing  come  to  pass,  not  even  if  the  gods  so 
willed  it.' 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  spake  to  him  again : 
*  Telemachus,  what  word  hath  escaped  the  door  of  thy  lips  ? 
Lightly  might  a  god,  if  so  he  would,  bring  a  man  safe  home 
even  from  afar.  Rather  myself  would  I  have  travail  and 
much  pain  ere  I  came  home  and  saw  the  day  of  my  return- 
ing, than  come  back  and  straightway  perish  on  my  own 
hearth-stone,  even  as  Agamemnon  perished  by  guile  at  the 
hands  of  his  own  wife  and  of  Aegisthus.  But  lo  you, 
death,  which  is  common  to  all,  the  very  gods  cannot  avert 
even  from  the  man  they  love,  when  the  ruinous  doom  shall 
bring  him  low  of  death  that  lays  men  at  their  length.' 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  saying :  '  Mentor,  no 
longer  let  us  tell  of  these  things,  sorrowful  though  we  be. 
There  is  none  assurance  any  more  of  his  returning,  but 
already  have  the  deathless  gods  devised  for  him  death  and 
black  fate.  But  now  I  would  question  Nestor,  and  ask  him 
of  another  matter,  as  one  who  above  all  men  knows  judg- 
ments •  and  wisdom :  for  thrice,  men  say,  he  haih  been  king 


ODYSSEY  III,  245-275.  39 

through  the  generations  of  men;  yea,  like  an  immortal  he 
seems  to  me  to  look  upon.  Nestor,  son  of  Neleus,  now 
tell  me  true:  how  died  the  son  of  Atreus,  Agamemnon  of  the 
wide  domain?  Where  was  Menelaus?  What  death  did  crafty 
Aegisthus  plan  for  him,  in  that  he  killed  a  man  more  valiant 
far  than  he  ?^  Or  was  Menelaus  not  in  Argos  of  Achaia  but 
wandering  elsewhere  among  men,  and  that  other  took  heart 
and  slew  Agamemnon  ? ' 

Then  Nestor  of  Gerenia,  lord  of  chariots,  answered  him : 
*  Yea  now,  my  child,  I  will  tell  thee  the  whole  truth.  Verily 
thou  guessest  aright  even  of  thyself  how  things  would  have 
fallen  out,  if  Menelaus  of  the  fair  hair,  the  son  of  Atreus, 
when  he  came  back  from  Troy,  had  found  Aegisthus  yet 
alive  in  the  halls.  Then  even  in  his  death  would  they 
not  have  heaped  the  piled  earth  over  him,  but  dogs  and 
fowls  of  the  air  would  have  devoured  him  as  he  lay  on  the 
plain  far  from  the  town  *.  Nor  would  any  of  the  Achaean 
women  have  bewailed  him ;  so  dread  was  the  deed  he  con- 
trived. Now  we  sat  in  leaguer  there,  achieving  many  ad- 
ventures ;  but  he  the  while  in  peace  in  the  heart  of  Argos, 
the  pastureland  of  horses,  spake  ofttimes,  tempting  her, 
to  the  wife  of  Agamemnon.  Verily  at  the  first  she  would 
none  of  the  foul  deed,  the  fair  Clytemnestra,  for  she  had 
a  good  understanding.  Moreover  there  was  with  her 
a  minstrel,  whom  the  son  of  Atreus  straitly  charged  as 
he  went  to  Troy  to  have  a  care  of  his  wife.  But  when  at 
last  the  doom  of  the  gods  bound  her  to  her  ruin,  then  did 
Aegisthus  carry  the  minstrel  to  a  lonely  isle,  and  left  him 
there  to  be  the  prey  and  spoil  of  birds ;  while  as  for  her,  he 
led  her  to  his  house,  a  willing  lover  with  a  willing  lady.  And 
he  burnt  many  thigh  slices  upon  the  holy  altars  of  the  gods, 
and  hung  up  many  offerings,  woven-wbrk  and  gold,  seeing 
*  Reading  acrcos.  v.  1.  'Apyeos,  which  must  be  wrong. 


40  ODYSSEY  III,  275-307. 

that  he  had  accomplished  a  great  deed,  beyond  all  hope. 
Now  we,  I  say,  were  sailing  together  on  our  way  from  Troy, 
the  son  of  Atreus  and  I,  as  loving  friends.  But  when  we  had 
reached  holy  Sunium,  the  headland  of  Athens,  there  Phoebus 
Apollo  slew  the  pilot  of  Menelaus  with  the  visitation  of  his 
gentle  shafts,  as  he  held  between  his  hands  the  rudder  of  the 
running  ship,  even  Phrontis,  son  of  Onetor,  who  excelled  the 
tribes  of  men  in  piloting  a  ship,  whenso  the  storm-winds 
were  hurrying  by.  Thus  was  Menelaus  holden  there,  though 
eager  for  the  way,  till  he  might  bury  his  friend  and  pay  the 
last  rites  over  him.  But  when  he  in  his  turn,  faring  over  the 
wine- dark  sea  in  hollow  ships,  reached  in  swift  course  the 
steep  mount  of  Malea^  then  it  was  that  Zeus  of  the  far-borne 
voice  devised  a  hateful  path,  and  shed  upon  them  the  breath 
of  the  shrill  winds,  and  great  swelling  waves  arose  Uke  unto 
mountains.  There  sundered  he  the  fleet  in  twain,  and  part 
thereof  he  brought  nigh  to  Crete,  where  the  Cydonians 
dwelt  about  the  streams  of  lardanus.  Now  there  is  a  cer- 
tain cliff,  smooth  and  sheer  towards  the  sea,  on  the  border 
of  Gortyn,  in  the  misty  deep,  where  the  South- West  Wind 
drives  a  great  wave  against  the  left  headland,  towards 
Phaestus,  and  a  little  rock  keeps  back  the  mighty  water. 
Thither  came  one  part  of  the  fleet,  and  the  men  scarce 
escaped  destruction,  but  the  ships  were  broken  by  the  waves 
against  the  rock;  while  those  other  five  dark-prowed  ships 
the  wind  and  the  water  bare  and  brought  nigh  to  Egypt. 
Thus  Menelaus,  gathering  much  livelihood  and  gold,  was 
wandering  there  with  his  ships  among  men  of  strange  speech, 
and  even  then  Aegisthus  planned  that  pitiful  work  at  home. 
And  for  seven  years  he  ruled  over  Mycenae,  rich  in  gold, 
after  he  slew  the  son  of  Atreus,  and  the  people  were  subdued 
unto  him.  But  in  the  eighth  year  came  upon  him  goodly 
Orestes  back  from  Athens  to  be  his  bane,  and  slew  the  slayer 


ODYSSEY  III,  308-338.  41 

of  his  father,  guileful  Aegisthus,  who  killed  his  famous  sire. 
Now  when  he  had  slain  him,  he  made  a  funeral  feast  to 
the  Argives  over  his  hateful  mother,  and  over  the  craven 
Aegisthus.  And  on  the  selfsame  day  there  came  to  him 
Menelaus  of  the  loud  war-cry,  bringing  much  treasure,  even 
all  the  freight  of  his  ships.  So  thou,  my  friend,  wander  not 
long  far  away  from  home,  leaving  thy  substance  behind  thee 
and  men  in  thy  house  so  wanton,  lest  they  divide  and  utterly 
devour  all  thy  wealth,  and  thou  shalt  have  gone  on  a  vain 
journey.  Rather  I  bid  and  command  thee  to  go  to  Mene- 
laus, for  he  hath  lately  come  from  a  strange  country,  from 
the  land  of  men  whence  none  would  hope  in  his  heart  to 
return,  whom  once  the  storms  have  driven  wandering  into 
so  wide  a  sea.  Thence  not  even  the  birds  can  make  their 
way  in  the  space  of  one  year,  so  great  a  sea  it  is  and  terrible. 
But  go  now  with  thy  ship  and  with  thy  company,  or  if  thou 
hast  a  mind  to  fare  by  land,  I  have  a  chariot  and  horses  at 
thy  service,  yea  and  my  sons  to  do  thy  will,  who  will  be  thy 
guides  to  goodly  Lacedaemon,  where  is  Menelaus  of  the  fair 
hair.  Do  thou  thyself  entreat  him,  that  he  may  give  thee 
unerring  answer.  He  will  not  lie  to  thee,  for  he  is  very 
wise.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  the  sun  went  down  and  darkness 
came  on.  Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  spake  among 
them,  saying :  *  Yea,  old  man,  thou  hast  told  all  this  thy  tale 
aright.  But  come,  cut  up  the  tongues  of  the  victims  and 
mix  the  wine,  that  we  may  pour  forth  before  Poseidon  and 
the  other  deathless  gods,  and  so  may  bethink  us  of  sleep, 
for  it  is  the  hour  for  sleep.  For  already  has  the  light  gone 
beneath  the  west,  and  it  is  not  seemly  to  sit  long  at  a  banquet 
of  the  gods,  but  to  be  going  home.' 

So  spake  the  daughter  of  Zeus,  and  they  hearkened  to 
her  voice.   And  the  henchmen  poured  water  over  their  hands, 


42  ODYSSEY  III,  339-371. 

and  pages  crowned  the  mixing  bowls  with  drink,  and  served 
out  the  wine  to  all,  after  they  had  first  poured  for  libation  into 
each  cup  in  turn ;  and  they  cast  the  tongues  upon  the  fire, 
and  stood  up  and  poured  the  drink-offering  thereon.  But 
when  they  had  poured  forth  and  had  drunken  to  their  heart's 
content,  Athene  and  godlike  Telemachus  were  both  set  on 
returning  to  the  hollow  ship  ;  but  Nestor  would  have  stayed 
them,  and  accosted  them,  saying:  'Zeus  forfend  it,  and  all  the 
other  deathless  gods,  that  ye  should  depart  from  my  house 
to  the  swift  ship,  as  from  the  dwelling  of  one  that  is  utterly 
without  raiment  or  a  needy  man,  who  hath  not  rugs  or 
blankets  many  in  his  house  whereon  to  sleep  softly,  he  or 
his  guests.  Nay  not  so,  I  have  rugs  and  fair  blankets  by 
me.  Never,  methinks,  shall  the  dear  son  of  this  man,  even 
of  Odysseus,  lay  him  down  upon  the  ship's  deck,  while  as  yet 
I  am  alive,  and  my  children  after  me  are  left  in  my  hall  to 
entertain  strangers,  whoso  may  chance  to  come  to  my  house.' 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  spake  to  him  again : 
'Yea,  herein  hast  thou  spoken  aright,  dear  father :  and  Telem- 
achus may  well  obey  thee,  for  before  all  things  this  is  meet. 
Behold,  he  shall  now  depart  with  thee,  that  he  may  sleep  in 
thy  halls ;  as  for  me  I  will  go  to  the  black  ship,  that  I  may 
cheer  my  company  and  tell  them  all.  For  I  avow  me  to 
be  the  one  elder  among  them ;  those  others  are  but  younger 
men,  who  follow  for  love  of  him,  all  of  them  of  like  age  with 
the  high-souled  Telemachus.  There  will  I  lay  me  down  by 
the  black  hollow  ship  this  night ;  but  in  the  morning  I  will  go 
to  the  Cauconians  high  of  heart,  where  somewhat  of  mine  is 
owing  to  me,  no  small  debt  nor  of  yesterday.  But  do  thou 
send  this  man  upon  his  way  with  thy  chariot  and  thy  son, 
since  he  hath  come  to  thy  house,  and  give  him  horses  the 
lightest  of  foot  and  chief  in  strength.' 

Therewith  grey-eyed  Athene  departed  in  the  semblance  of 


ODYSSEY  III,  372-402.  43 

a  sea-eagle;  and  amazement  fell  on  all  that  saw  it,  and  the  old 
man  he  marvelled  when  his  eyes  beheld  it.  And  he  took 
the  hand  of  Telemachus  and  spake  and  hailed  him : 

*  My  friend,  methinks  that  thou  wilt  in  no  sort  be  a  coward 
and  a  weakling,  if  indeed  in  thy  jiDuth  the  gods  thus  follow 
with  thee  to  be  thy  guides.  For  truly  this  is  none  other  of 
those  who  keep  the  mansions  of  Olympus,  save  only  the 
daughter  of  Zeus,  the  driver  of  the  spoil,  the  maiden  Trito- 
born  ***,  she  that  honoured  th^  good  father  too  among  the 
Argives.  Nay  be  gracious,  queen,  and  vouchsafe  a  goodly 
fame  to  me,  even  to  me  and  to  my  sons  and  to  my  wife 
revered.  And  I  in  turn  will  sacrifice  to  thee  a  yearling  heifer, 
broad  of  brow,  unbroken,  which  man  never  yet  hath  led 
beneath  the  yoke.  Such  an  one  will  I  offer  to  thee,  and 
gild  her  horns  with  gold.' 

*  Even  so  he  spake  in  prayer,  and  Pallas  Athene  heard  him. 
Then  Nestor  of  Gerenia,  lord  of  chariots,  led  them,  even  his 
sons  and  the  husbands  of  his  daughters,  to  his  own  fair  house. 
But  when  they  had  reached  this  prince's  famous  halls,  they 
sat  down  all  orderly  on  seats  and  high  chairs ;  and  when  they 
were  come,  the  old  man  mixed  well  for  them  a  bowl  of 
sweet  wine,  which  now  in  the  eleventh  year  from  the  vin- 
taging  the  housewife  opened,  and  unloosed  the  string  that 
fastened  the  lid.  The  old  man  let  mix  a  bowl  thereof,  and 
prayed  instantly  to  Athene  as  he  poured  forth  before  her, 
even  to  the  daughter  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis. 

But  after  they  had  poured  forth  and  had  drunken  to  their 
heart's  content,  these  went  each  one  to  his  own  house  to  lie 
down  to  rest.  But  Nestor  of  Gerenia,  lord  of  chariots,  would 
needs  have  Telemachus,  son  of  divine  Odysseus,  to  sleep  there 
on  a  jointed  bedstead  beneath  the  echoing  corridor,  and  by 
him  Peisistratus  of  the  good  ashen  spear,  leader  of  men,  who 
alone  of  his  sons  was  yet  unwed  in  his  halls.     As  for  him  he 


44  ODYSSEY  III,  402-434. 

slept  within  the  inmost  chamber  of  the  lofty  house,  and  the 
lady  his  wife  arrayed  for  him  bedstead  and  bedding. 

So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered,  Nestor 
of  Gerenia,  lord  of  chariots,  gat  him  up  from  his  bed,  and  he 
went  forth  and  sat  him  down  upon  the  smooth  stones,  which 
were  before  his  lofty  doors,  all  polished,  white  and  glistening, 
whereon  Neleus  sat  of  old,  in  counsel  the  peer  of  the  gods. 
Howbeit,  stricken  by  fate,  he  had  ere  now  gone  down  to  the 
house  of  Hades,  and  to-day  ISTestor  of  Gerenia  in  his  turn  sat 
thereon,  warder  of  the  Achaeans,  with  his  staff  in  his  hands. 
And  about  him  his  sons  were  gathered  and  come  together, 
issuing  from  their  chambers,  Echephron  and  Stratius,  and 
Perseus  and  Aretus  and  the  godlike  Thrasymedes.  And 
sixth  and  last  came  the  hero  Peisistratus.  And  they  led 
godlike  Telemachus  and  set  him  by  their  side,  and  Nestor 
of  Gerenia,  lord  of  chariots,  spake  first  among  them  : 

*  Quickly,  my  dear  children,  accomplish  my  desire,  that 
first  of  all  the  gods  I  may  propitiate  Athene,  who  came  to 
me  in  visible  presence  to  the  rich  feast  of  the  god.  Nay 
then,  let  one  go  to  the  plain  for  a  heifer,  that  she  may  come 
as  soon  as  may  be,  and  that  the  neat-herd  may  drive  her:  and 
let  another  go  to  the  black  ship  of  high-souled  Telemachus  to 
bring  all  his  company,  and  let  him  leave  two  men  only.  And 
let  one  again  bid  Laerces  the  goldsmidi  to  come  hither  that 
he  may  gild  the  horns  of  the  heifer.  And  ye  others,  abide 
ye  here  together  and  speak  to  the  handmaids  within  that  they 
make  ready  a  banquet  through  our  famous  halls,  and  fetch 
seats  and  logs  to  set  about  the  altar,  and  bring  clear  water.' 

Thus  he  spake  and  lo,  they  all  hastened  to  the  work.  The 
heifer  she  came  from  the  field,  and  from  the  swift  gallant  ship 
came  the  company  of  great-hearted  Telemachus ;  the  smith 
came  holding  in  his  hands  his  tools,  the  instruments  of  his 
craft,  anvil  and  hammer  and  well-made  pincers,  wherewith  he 


ODYSSEY  III,  435-4^3'  45 

wrought  the  gold ;  Athene  too  came  to  receive  her  sacrifice. 
And  the  old  knight  Nestor  gave  gold,  and  the  other  fashioned 
it  skilfully,  and  gilded  therewith  the  horns  of  the  heifer,  that 
the  goddess  might  be  glad  at  the  sight  of  her  fair  offering. 
And  Stratius  and  goodly  Echephron  led  the  heifer  by  the  horns. 
And  Aretus  came  forth  from  the  chamber  bearing  water  for  the 
washing  of  hands  in  a  basin  of  flowered  work,  and  in  the  other 
hand  he  held  the  barley-meal  in  a  basket ;  and  Thrasymedes, 
steadfast  in  the  battle,  stood  by  holding  in  his  hand  a  sharp 
axe,  ready  to  smite  the  heifer.  And  Perseus  held  the  dish  for 
the  blood,  and  the  old  man  Nestor,  driver  of  chariots,  per- 
formed the  first  rite  of  the  washing  of  hands  and  the  sprinkling 
of  the  meal,  and  he  prayed  instantly  to  Athene  as  he  began  the 
rite,  casting  into  the  fire  the  lock  from  the  head  of  the  victim. 
Now  when  they  had  prayed  and  tossed  the  sprinkled 
grain,  straightway  the  son  of  Nestor,  gallant  Thrasymedes, 
stood  by  and  struck  the  blow ;  and  the  axe  severed  the  ten- 
dons of  the  neck  and  loosened  the  might  of  the  heifer ;  and 
the  women  raised  their  cry,  the  daughters  and  the  sons'  wives 
and  the  wife  revered  of  Nestor,  Eurydice,  eldest  of  the 
daughters  of  Clymenus.  And  now  they  lifted  the  victim's 
head  from  the  wide-wayed  earth,  and  held  it  so,  while  Peisis- 
tratus,  leader  of  men,  cut  the  throat.  And  after  the  black 
blood  had  gushed  forth  and  the  life  had  left  the  bones, 
quickly  they  broke  up  the  body,  and  anon  cut  slices  from  the 
thighs  all  duly,  and  wrapt  the  same  in  the  fat,  folding  them 
double,  and  laid  raw  flesh  thereon.  So  that  old  man  burnt 
them  on  the  cleft  wood,  and  poured  over  them  the  red  wine, 
and  by  his  side  the  young  men  held  in  their  hands  the  five- 
pronged  forks.  Now  after  that  the  thighs  were  quite  con- 
sumed and  they  had  tasted  the  inner  parts,  they  cut  the  rest 
up  small  and  spitted  and  roasted  it,  holding  the  sharp  spits 
in  their  hands. 


4(5  ODVSSEV  III,  464-492. 

Meanwhile  she  bathed  Telemachus,  even  fair  Poljcaste, 
the  youngest  daughter  of  Nestor,  son  of  Neleus.  And  after 
she  had  bathed  him  and  anointed  him  with  oHve  oil,  and 
cast  about  him  a  goodly  mantle  and  a  doublet,  he  came  fotth 
from  the  bath  in  fashion  hke  the  deathless  gods.  So  he 
went  and  sat  him  down  by  Nestor,  shepherd  of  the  people. 

Now  when  they  had  roasted  the  outer  flesh,  and  drawn  it 
off  the  spits,  they  sat  down  and  fell  to  feasting,  and  honour- 
able men  waited  on  them,  pouring  wine  into  the  golden 
cups.  But  when  they  had  put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat 
and  drink,  Nestor  of  Gerenia,  lord  of  chariots,  first  spake 
among  them : 

*Lo  now,  my  sons,  yoke  for  Telemachus  horses  with 
flowing  mane  and  lead  them  beneath  the  car,  that  he  may 
get  forward  on  his  way.' 

Even  so  he  spake,  and  they  gave  good  heed  and  hearkened; 
and  quickly  they  yoked  the  swift  horses  beneath  the  chariot. 
And  the  dame  that  kept  the  stores  placed  therein  corn  and 
wine  and  dainties,  such  as  princes  eat,  the  fosterlings  of 
Zeus.  So  Telemachus  stept  up  into  the  goodly  car,  and 
with  him  Peisistratus  son  of  Nestor,  leader  of  men,  likewise 
climbed  the  car  and  grasped  the  reins  in  his  hands,  and  he 
touched  the  horses  with  the  whip  to  start  them,  and  nothing 
loth  the  pair  flew  toward  the  plain,  and  left  the  steep  citadel 
of  Pylos.  So  all  day  long  they  swayed  the  yoke  they  bore 
upon  their  necks. 

Now  the  sun  sank  and  all  the  ways  were  darkened.  And 
they  came  to  Ph^rae,  to  the  house  of  Diodes,  son  of  Orsi- 
lochus,  the  child  begotten  of  Alpheus.  There  they  rested 
for  the  night,  and  by  them  he  set  the  entertainment  of 
strangers. 

Now  so  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
they  yoked  the  horses  and  mounted  the  inlaid  car.   And  forth 


ODYSSEY  III,  493-497.  47 

they  drave  from  the  gateway  and  the  echoing  corridor,  and 
Peisistratus  touched  the  horses  with  the  whip  to  start  them, 
and  the  pair  flew  onward  nothing  loth.  So  they  came  to  the 
wheat-bearing  plain,  and  thenceforth  they  pressed  toward 
the  end :  in  such  wise  did  the  swift  horses  speed  forward. 
Now  the  sun  sank  and  all  the  ways  were  darkened. 


BOOK  IV. 

Telemachus's  entertainment  at  Sparta,  where  Menelaus  tells  him  yrh&X 
befell  many  of  the  Greeks  on  their  return ;  that  Odysseus  was  with  Calypso 
in  the  isle  Ogygia,  as  he  was  told  by  Proteus. 

And  they  came  to  Lacedaemon  lying  low  among  the 
caverned  hills,  and  drave  to  the  dwelling  of  renowned  Mene- 
laus. Him  ihey  found  giving  a  feast  in  his  house  to  many 
friends  of  his  kin,  a  feast  for  the  wedding  of  his  noble  son 
and  daughter.  His  daughter  he  was  sending  to  the  son  of 
Achilles,  cleaver  of  the  ranks  of  men,  for  in  Troy  he  first 
had  promised  and  covenanted  to  give  her,  and  now  the  gods 
were  bringing  about  their  marriage.  So  now  he  was  speed- 
ing her  on  her  way  with  chariot  and  horses,  to  the  famous 
city  of  the  Myrmidons,  among  whom  her  lord  bare  rule. 
And  for  his  son  he  was  bringing  to  his  home  the  daughter 
of  Alector  out  of  Sparta,  for  his  well-beloved  son,  strong 
Megapenthes*,  born  of  a  slave  woman,  for  the  gods  no  more 
showed  promise  of  seed  to  Helen,  from  the  day  that  she 
bare  a  lovely  child,  Hermione,  as  fair  as  golden  Aphrodite. 
So  they  were  feasting  through  the  great  vaulted  hall,  the 
neighbours  and  the  kinsmen  of  renowned  Menelaus,  making 
merry;  and  among  them  a  divine  minstrel  was  singing  to 
the  lyre,  and  as  he  began  the  song  two  tumblers  in  the  com- 
pany whirled  through  the  midst  of  them. 

Meanwhile  those  twain,  the  hero  Telemachus  and  the 
splendid  son  of  Nestor,  made  halt  at  the  entry  of  the  gate, 

*  A  son  of  sorrow :  Tristram. 


ODYSSEY  IV,  20-53.  49 

they  and  their  horses.  And  the  lord  Eteoneus  came  forth 
and  saw  them,  the  ready  squire  of  renowned  Menelaus; 
and  he  went  through  the  palace  to  bear  the  tidings  to  the 
shepherd  of  the  people,  and  standing  near  spake  to  him 
winged  words : 

'Menelaus,  fosterling  of  Zeus,  here  are  two  strangers, 
whosoever  they  be,  two  men  like  to  the  lineage  of  great  Zeus. 
Say,  shall  we  loose  their  swift  horses  from  under  the  yoke,  or 
send  them  onward  to  some  other  host  who  shall  receive  them 
kindly?' 

Then  in  sore  displeasure  spake  to  him  Menelaus  of  the 
fair  hair :  *  Eteoneus  son  of  Boethous,  truly  thou  wert  not 
a  fool  aforetime,  but  now  for  this  once,  like  a  child  thou 
talkest  folly.  Surely  ourselves  ate  much  hospitable  cheer  of 
other  men,  ere  we  twain  came  hither,  even  if  in  time  to  come 
Zeus  haply  give  us  rest  from  affliction.  Nay  go,  unyoke 
the  horses  of  the  strangers,  and  as  for  the  men,  lead  them 
forward  to  the  house  to  feast  with  us.* 

So  spake  he,  and  Eteoneus  hasted  from  the  hall,  and  called 
the  other  ready  squires  to  follow  with  him.  So  they  loosed 
the  sweating  horses  from  beneath  the  yoke,  and  fastened  them 
at  the  stalls  of  the  horses,  and  threw  beside  them  spelt,  and 
therewith  mixed  white  barley,  and  tilted  the  chariot  against 
the  shining  faces  of  the  gateway,  and  led  the  men  into  the 
hall  divine.  And  they  beheld  and  marvelled  as  they  gazed 
throughout  the  palace  of  the  king,  the  fosterling  of  Zeus ;  for 
there  was  a  gleam  as  it  were  of  sun  or  moon  through  the  lofty 
palace  of  renowned  Menelaus.  But  after  they  had  gazed  their 
fill,  they  went  to  the  polished  baths  and  bathed  them.  Now 
when  the  maidens  had  bathed  them  and  anointed  them  with 
olive  oil,  and  cast  about  them  thick  cloaks  and  doublets,  they 
sat  on  chairs  by  Menelaus,  son  of  Atreus.  And  a  handmaid 
bare  water  for   the  hands   in  a  goodly  golden  ewer,   and 

E 


50  ODVSSEV  IV,  53-84. 

poured  it  forth  over  a  silver  basin  to  wash  withal ;  and  to 
their  side  she  drew  a  polished  table,  and  a  grave  dame  bare 
food  and  set  it  by  them,  and  laid  upon  the  board  many 
dainties,  giving  freely  of  such  things  as  she  had  by  her,  and 
a  carver  lifted  and  placed  by  them  platters  of  divers  kinds  of 
flesh,  and  nigh  them  he  set  golden  bowls.  So  Menelaus 
of  the  fair  hair  greeted  the  twain  and  spake  : 

*  Taste  ye  food  and  be  glad,  and  thereafter  when  ye  have 
supped,  we  will  ask  what  men  ye  are ;  for  the  blood  of  your 
parents  is  not  lost  in  you,  but  ye  are  of  the  line  of  men  that 
are  sceptred  kings,  the  fosterlings  of  Zeus;  for  no  churls 
could  beget  sons  like  you.' 

So  spake  he,  and  took  and  set  before  them  the  fat  ox- 
chine  roasted,  which  they  had  given  him  as  his  own  mess  by 
way  of  honour  ".  And  they  stretched  forth  their  hands  upon 
the  good  cheer  set  before  them.  Now  when  they  had  put 
from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and  drink  Telemachus  spake  to 
the  son  of  Nestor,  holding  his  head  close  to  him,  that  those 
others  might  not  hear : 

*  Son  of  Nestor,  delight  of  my  heart,  mark  the  flashing  of 
bronze  through  the  echoing  halls,  and  the  flashing  of  gold 
and  of  amber  and  of  silver  and  of  ivory.  Such  like,  methinks, 
is  the  court  of  Olympian  Zeus  within,  for  the  world  of  things 
that  are  here ;  wonder  comes  over  me  as  I  look  thereon.' 

And  as  he  spake  Menelaus  of  the  fair  hair  was  ware  of 
him,  and  uttering  his  voice  spake  to  them  winged  words : 
■  *  Children  dear,  of  a  truth  no  one  of  mortal  men  may  con- 
tend with  Zeus,  for  his  mansions  and  his  treasures  are  ever- 
lasting :  but  of  men  there  may  be  who  will  vie  with  me  in 
treasure,  or  there  may  be  none.  Yea,  for  after  many  a  woe 
and  wanderings  manifold,  I  brought  my  wealth  home  in  ships, 
and  in  the  eighth  year  came  hither.  I  roamed  over  Cyprus 
and  Phoenicia  and  Egypt,  and  reached  the  Aethiopians  and 


/  ;:;      A-   l^yf-f-^ 


01) VSS£V  IV,  S4-iiy,  51 

Sidonians  and  Erembi  and  Libya,  where  lambs  are  horned 
from  the  birth.  For  there  the  ewes  yean  thrice  within  the 
full  circle  of  a  year ;  there  neither  lord  nor  shepherd  lacketh 
aught  of  cheese  or  flesh  or  of  sweet  milk,  Lut  ever  the  flocks 
yield  store  of  milk  continual.  While  I  was  yet  roaming  in 
those  lands,  gathering  much  livelihood,  meantime  another 
slew  my  brother  privily,  at  unawares,  by  the  guile  of  his 
accursed  wife.  Thus,  look  you,  I  have  no  joy  of  my  lord- 
ship among  these  my  possessions :  and  ye  are  like  to  have 
heard  hereof  from  your  fathers,  whosoever  they  be,  for  I  have 
suffered  much  and  let  a  house  go  to  ruin  that  was  stablished 
fair,  and  had  in  it  much  choice  substance.  I  would  that 
I  had  but  a  third  part  of  those  my  riches,  and  dwelt  in  my 
halls,  and  that  those  men  were  yet  safe,  who  perished  of  old 
in  the  wide  land  of  Troy,  far  from  Argos,  the  pastureland 
of  horses.  Howbeit,  though  I  bewail  them  all  and  sorrow 
oftentimes  as  I  sit  in  our  halls, — awhile  indeed  I  satisfy  my 
soul  with  lamentation,  and  then  again  I  cease;  for  soon 
hath  man  enough  of  chill  lamentation — yet  for  them  all 
I  make  no  such  dole,  despite  my  grief,  as  for  one  only, 
who  causes  me  to  loathe  both  sleep  and  meat,  when  I  think 
upon  him.  For  no  one  of  the  Achaeans  toiled  so  greatly 
as  Odysseus  toiled  and  adventured  himself:  but  to  him  it 
was  to  be  but  labour  and  trouble,  and  to  me  grief  ever  com- 
fortless for  his  sake,  so  long  he  is  afar,  nor  know  we  aught, 
whether  he  be  alive  or  dead.  Yea  methinks  they  lament  him, 
even  that  old  Laertes  and  the  constant  Penelope  and  Telem- 
achus,  whom  he  left  a  child  new-born  in  his  house.' 

So  spake  he,  and  in  the  heart  of  Telemachus  he  stirred 
a  yearning  to  lament  his  father ;  and  at  his  father's  name 
he  let  a  tear  fall  from  his  eyelids  to  the  ground,  and  held 
up  his  purple  mantle  with  both  his  hands  before  his  eyes. 
And  Menelaus  marked  him  and  mused  in  his  mind  and 

E   2 


5«  ODYSSEY  IV,   118-151. 

his  heart  whether  he  should  leave  him  to  speak  of  his  father, 
or  first  question  him  and  prove  him  in  every  word. 

While  yet  he  pondered  these  things  in  his  mind  and  in 
his  heart,  Helen  came  forth  from  her  fragrant  vaulted 
chamber,  like  Artemis  of  the  golden  arrows ;  and  with  her 
came  AdrastS  and  set  for  her  the  well-wrought  chair,  and 
AlcippS  bare  a  rug  of  soft  wool,  and  Phylo  bare  a  silver 
basket  which  Alcandr6  gave  her,  the  wife  of  Polybus,  who 
dwelt  in  Thebes  of  Egypt,  where  is  the  chiefest  store  of 
wealth  in  the  houses.  He  gave  two  silver  baths  to  Menelaus, 
and  tripods  twain,  and  ten  talents  of  gold.  And  besides  all 
this,  his  wife  bestowed  on  Helen  lovely  gifts ;  a  golden 
distaff  did  she  give,  and  a  silver  basket  with  wheels  beneath, 
and  the  rims  thereof  were  finished  with  gold.  This  it  was 
that  the  handmaid  Phylo  bare  and  set  beside  her,  filled  with 
dressed  yarn,  and  across  it  was  laid  a  distaff  charged  with 
'  wool  of  violet  blue.  So  Helen  sat  her  down  in  the  chair,  and 
beneath  was  a  footstool  for  the  feet.  And  anon  she  spake 
to  her  lord  and  questioned  him  of  each  thing  : 

*  Menelaus,  fosterling  of  Zeus,  know  we  now  who  these 

men  avow  themselves  to  be  that  have  come  under  our  roof? 

Shall  I  dissemble  or  shall  I  speak  the  truth?     Nay,  I  am 

\  minded  to  tell  it.     None,  I  say,  have  I  ever  yet  seen  so  like 

'    another,  man  nor  woman — wonder  comes  over  me  as  I  look 

on  him— as  this  man  is  like  the  son  of  great-hearted  Odysseus, 

Telemachus,  whom  he  left  a  new-born  child  in  his  house, 

when  for  the  sake  of  me,  shameless  woman  that  I  was,  ye 

Achaeans  came  up  under  Troy  with  bold  war  in  your  hearts.' 

And   Menelaus   of  the  fair  hair  answered   her,  saying  : 

*  Now  I  too,  lady,  mark  the  likeness  even  as  thou  tracest  it. 

For  such  as  these  were  his  feet,  such  his  hands,  and  the 

glances  of  hi3  eyes,  and  his  head,  and  his  hair  withal.     Yea, 

and  even  now  I  was  speaking  of  Odysseus,  as  I  remembered 


ODVSSEV  IV,   152-180.  ^^ 

him,  of  all  his  woeful  travail  for  my  sake ;  when,  lo,  he  let 
fall  a  bitter  tear  beneath  his  brows,  and  held  his  purple  cloak 
up  before  his  eyes/ 

And  Peisistratus,  son  of  Nestor,  answered  him,  saying : 

*  Menelaus,  son  of  Atreus,  fosterling  of  Zeus,  leader  of  the 
host,  assuredly  this  is  the  son  of  that  very  man,  even  as  thou 
sayest.  But  he  is  of  a  sober  wit,  and  thinketh  it  shame  in 
his  heart  as  on  this  his  first  coming  to  make  show  of  pre- 
sumptuous words  in  the  presence  of  thee,  in  whose  voice  we 
twain  delight  as  in  the  voice  of  a  god.  Now  Nestor  of  Gerenia, 
lord  of  chariots,  sent  me  forth  to  be  his  guide  on  the  way  :  for 
he  desired  to  see  thee  that  thou  mightest  put  into  his  heart 
some  word  or  work.  For  a  son  hath  many  griefs  in  his  halls 
when  his  father  is  away,  if  perchance  he  hath  none  to  stand  by 
him.  Even  so  it  is  now  with  Telemachus ;  his  father  is  away, 
nor  hath  he  others  in  the  township  to  defend  him  from  distress/ 

And  Menelaus  of  the  fair  hair  answered  him,  and  said: 

*  Lo  now,  in  good  truth  there  has  come  unto  my  house  the 
son  of  a  friend  indeed,  who  for  my  sake  endured  many 
adventures.  And  I  thought  to  welcome  him  on  his  coming 
more  nobly  than  all  the  other  Argives,  if  but  Olympian  Zeus, 
of  the  far-bome  voice,  had  vouchsafed  us  a  return  over  the 
sea  in  our  swift  ships, — that  such  a  thing  should  be.  And  in 
Argos  I  would  have  given  him  a  city  to  dwell  in,  and  stab- 
lished  for  him  a  house,  and  brought  him  forth  from  Ithaca 
with  his  substance  and  his  son  and  all  his  people,  making 
one  city  desolate  of  those  that  lie  around,  and  are  in  mine 
own  domain.  Then  ofttimes  would  we  have  held  converse 
here,  and  nought  would  have  parted  us,  the  welcoming  and  the 
welcomed,*  ere  the  black  cloud  of  death  overshadowed  us. 

*  Mr.  Evelyn  Abbott  of  Balliol  College  has  suggested  to  us  that  (pi\iov7€ 
and  Tepironcvoj  are  here  correlatives,  and  denote  respectively  the  parts  of  host 
and  of  guest.  This  i§  sufficiently  borne  out  by  the  usage  of  the  words  else- 
where. 


54  ODYSSEY  JV,  i^i-'Zil, 

Howsoever,  the  god  himself,  methinks,  must  have  been  jealous 
hereof,  who  from  that  hapless  man  alone  cut  off  his  returning/ 

So  spake  he,  and  in  the  hearts  of  all  he  stirred  the  desire 
of  lamentation.  She  wept,  even  Argive  Helen  the  daughter  of 
Zeus,  and  Telemachus  wept,  and  Menelaus  the  son  of  Atreus ; 
nay,  nor  did  the  son  of  Nestor  keep  tearless  eyes.  For  he 
bethought  him  in  his  heart  of  noble  Antilochus,  whom  the 
glorious  son  of  the  bright  Dawn  had  slain.  Thinking  upon 
him  he  spake  winged  words : 

*  Son  of  Atreus,  the  ancient  Nestor  in  his  own  halls  was 
ever  wont  to  say  that  thou  wert  wise  beyond  man's  wisdom, 
whensoever  we  made  mention  of  thee  and  asked  one  another 
concerning  thee.  And  now,  if  it  be  possible,  be  persuaded 
by  me,  who  for  one  have  no  pleasure  in  weeping  at  supper 
time — the  new-born  day  will  right  soon  be  upon  us  *.  Not 
indeed  that  I  deem  it  blame  at  all  to  weep  for  any  mortal 
who  hath  died  and  met  his  fate.  Lo,  this  is  now  the  only  due 
we  pay  to  miserable  men,  to  cut  the  hair  and  let  the  tear  fall 
from  the  cheek.  For  I  too  have  a  brother  dead,  nowise  the 
meanest  of  the  Argives,  and  thou  art  like  to  have  known 
him,  for  as  for  me  I  never  encountered  him,  never  beheld 
him.  But  men  say  that  Antilochus  outdid  all,  being  excellent 
in  speed  of  foot  and  in  the  fight/ 

And  Menelaus  of  the  fair  hair  answered  him,  and  said: 
*  My  friend,  lo,  thou  hast  said  all  that  a  wise  man  might  say 
or  do,  yea,  and  an  elder  than  thou ; — for  from  such  a  sire 
too  thou  art  sprung,  wherefore  thou  dost  even  speak  wisely. 
Right  easily  known  is  that  man's  seed,  for  whom  Cronion 
weaves  the  skein  of  luck  at  bridal  and  at  birth :  even  as  now 
hath  he  granted  prosperity  to  Nestor  for  ever  for  all  his 
days,  that  he  himself  should  grow  into  a  smooth  old  age  in 
his  halls,  and  his  sons  moreover  should  be  wise  and  the  best 

*  Cf.  B.  XV.  so. 


__^_______^ ai  1-243' 55 

of  spearsmen.  But  we  will  cease  now  the  weeping  which  was 
erewhile  made,  and  let  us  once  more  bethink  us  of  our 
supper,  and  let  them  pour  water  over  our  hands.  And  again 
in  the  morning  there  will  be  tales  for  Telemachus  and  me  to 
tell  one  to  the  other,  even  to  the  end/ 

So  spake  he,  and  Asphalion  poured  water  over  their  hands, 
the  ready  squire  of  renowned  Menelaus.  And  they  put  forth 
their  hands  upon  the  good  cheer  spread  before  them. 

Then  Helen,  daughter  of  Zeus,  turned  to  new  thoughts. 
Presently  she  cast  a  drug  into  the  wine  whereof  they  drank, 
a  drug  to  lull  all  pain  and  anger,  and  bring  forgetfulness 
of  every  sorrow.  Whoso  should  drink  a  draught  thereof, 
when  it  is  mingled  in  the  bowl,  on  that  day  he  would  let  no 
tear  fall  down  his  cheeks,  not  though  his  mother  and  his 
father  died,  not  though  men  slew  his  brother  or  dear  son 
with  the  sword  before  his  face,  and  his  own  eyes  beheld  it. 
Medicines  of  such  virtue  and  so  helpful  bad  the  daughter  of 
Zeus,  which  Polydamna,  the  wife  of  Thon,  had  given  her,  a 
woman  of  Egypt,  where  earth  the  grain-giver  yields  herbs 
in  greatest  plenty,  many  that  are  healing  in  the  cup,  and 
many  baneful.  There  each  man  is  a  leech  skilled  beyond  all 
human  kind ;  yea,  for  they  are  of  the  race  of  Paeeon.  Now 
after  she  had  cast  in  the  drug  and  bidden  pour  forth  of  the 
wine,  she  made  answer  once  again,  and  spake  unto  her  lord : 

•  Son  of  Atreus,  Menelaus,  fosterling  of  Zeus,  and  lo,  ye 
sons  of  noble  men,  forasmuch  as  now  to  one  and  now  to 
another  Zeus  gives  good  and  evil,  for  to  him  all  things  are 
possible, — now,  verily,  sit  ye  down  and  feast  in  the  halls,  and 
take  ye  joy  in  the  telling  of  tales,  and  I  will  tell  you  one  that 
fits  the  time.  Now  all  of  them  I  could  not  tell  or  number,  so 
many  as  were  the  adventures  of  Odysseus  of  the  hardy  heart, 
save  only  what  a  deed  was  this  he  wrought  and  dared  in  his 
hardiness  in  the  land  of  the  Trojans,  where  ye  Achaeans 


^6  ODYSSEY  IV,  243-277. 

suffered  affliction.  He  subdued  his  body  with  unseemly  stripes, 
and  a  sorry  covering  he  cast  about  his  shoulders,  and  in  the 
fashion  of  a  servant  he  went  down  into  the  wide-wayed  city 
of  the  foemen,  and  he  hid  himself  in  the  guise  of  another,  a 
beggar,  though  in  no  wise  such  an  one  was  he  at  the  ships  of 
the  Achaeans.  In  this  semblance  he  passed  into  the  city  ot 
the  Trojans,  and  they  wist  not  who  he  was,  and  I  alone 
knew  him  in  that  guise,  and  I  kept  questioning  him,  but  in 
his  subtlety  he  avoided  me.  But  when  at  last  I  was  about 
washing  Ikiu  and  anointing  him  with  olive  oil,  and  had  put 
on  him  raiment,  and  sworn  a  great  oath  not  to  reveal 
Odysseus  amid  the  Trojans,  ere  he  reached  the  swift  ships 
and  the  huts,  even  then  he  told  me  all  the  purpose  of  the 
Achaeans.  And  after  slaying  many  of  the  Trojans  with  the 
long  sword,  he  returned  to  the  Argives  and  brought  back 
word  again  of  all.  Then  the  other  Trojan  women  wept  aloud, 
but  my  soul  was  glad,  for  already  my  heart  was  turned  to  go 
back  again  even  to  my  home  :  and  now  at  the  last  I  groaned 
for  the  blindness  that  Aphrodite  gave  me,  when  she  led  me 
thither  away  from  mine  own  country,  forsaking  my  child  and 
my  bridal  chamber  and  my 'lord,  that  lacked  not  aught  whe- 
ther for  wisdom  or  yet  for  beauty.* 

And  Menelaus  of  the  fair  hair  answered  her,  saying: 
*  Verily  all  this  tale,  lady,  thou  hast  duly  told.  Ere  now 
have  I  learned  the  counsel  and  the  thought  of  many  heroes, 
and  travelled  over  many  a  land,  but  never  yet  have  mine 
eyes  beheld  any  such  man  of  heart  as  was  Odysseus ;  such 
another  deed  as  he  wrought  and  dared  in  his  hardiness  even 
in  the  shapen  horse,  wherein  sat  all  we  chiefs  of  the  Argives, 
bearing  to  the  Trojans  death  and  doom.  Anon  thou  camest 
thither,  and  sure  some  god  must  have  bidden  thee,  who 
wished  to  bring  glory  to  the  Trojans.  Yea  and  godlike 
Deiphobus  went  with  thee  on  thy  way.     Thrice  thou  didst 


ODYSSEY  IV,  277-309.  57 

go  round  about  the  hollow  ambush  and  handle  it,  calling 
aloud  on  the  chiefs  of  the  Argives  by  name,  and  making  thy 
voice  like  the  voices  of  the  wives  of  all  the  Argives.  Now  I 
and  the  son  of  Tydeus  and  goodly  Odysseus  sat  in  the  midst 
and  heard  thy  call;  and  verily  we  twain  had  a  desire  to  start 
up  and  come  forth  or  presently  to  answer  from  within;  but 
Odysseus  stayed  and  held  us  there,  despite  our  eagerness. 
Then  all  the  other  sons  of  the  Achaeans  held  their  peace, 
but  Anticlus  alone  was  still  minded  to  answer  thee.  How- 
beit  Odysseus  firmly  closed  his  mouth  with  strong  hands, 
and  so  saved  all  the  Achaeans,  and  held  him  until  such  time 
as  Pallas  Athene  led  thee  back/ 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  and  said  :  '  Mene- 
laus,  son  of  Atreus,  fosterling  of  Zeus,  leader  of  the  host,  all 
the  more  grievous  it  is !  for  in  no  way  did  this  courage  ward 
-from  him  pitiful  destruction,  not  though  his  heart  within 
him  had  been  very  iron.  But  come,  bid  us  to  bed,  that 
forthwith  we  may  take  our  joy  of  rest  beneath  the  spell  of 
sleep/ 

So  spake  he,  and  Argive  Helen  bade  her  handmaids  set 
out  bedsteads  beneath  the  corridor,  and  fling  on  them  fair 
purple  blankets  and  spread  coverlets  above,  and  thereon  lay 
thick  mantles  to  be  a  clothing  over  all.  So  they  went  from 
the  hall  with  torch  in  hand,  and  spread  the  beds,  and  the 
henchman  led  forth  the  guests.  Thus  they  slept  there  in  the 
outer  gallery  of  the  house,  the  hero  Telemachus  and  the 
splendid  son  of  Nestor.  But  the  son  of  Atreus  slept,  as  his 
custom  was,  in  the  inmost  chamber  of  the  lofty  house,  and 
by  him  lay  long-robed  Helen,  that  fair  lady. 

Soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered,  Mene- 
laus  of  the  loud  war-shout  gat  him  up  from  his  bed  and  put 
on  his  raiment,  and  cast  his  sharp  sword  about  his  shoulder, 
and  beneath  his  smooth  feet  bound  his  goodly  sandals,  and 


58  ODYSSEY  IV,  310-341. 

stept  forth  from  his  chamber,  in  presence  like  a  god,  and  sat 
by  Telemachus,  and  spake  and  hailed  him : 

*  To  what  end  hath  thy  need  brought  thee  hither,  hero 
Telemachus,  unto  fair  Lacedaemon,  over  the  broad  back  of 
the  sea?  Is  it  a  matter  of  the  common  weal  or  of  thine 
own  ?     Herein  tell  me  the  plain  truth.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  and  said :  *  Mene- 
laus,  son  of  Atreus,' fosterling  of  Zeus,  leader  of  the  host,  I 
have  come  if  perchance  thou  mayest  tell  me  some  tidings 
of  my  father.  My  dwelling  is  being  devoured  and  my  fat 
lands  are  ruined,  and  of  unfriendly  men  my  house  is  full,^ 
who  slaughter  continually  my  thronging  flocks,  and  my  kine 
with  trailing  feet  and  shambling  gait, — none  other  than  the 
wooers  of  my  mother,  despiteful  out  of  measure.  So  now  am 
I  come  hither  to  thy  knees,  if  haply  thou  art  willing  to  tell  me 
of  his  pitiful  death,  as  one  that  saw  it  perchance  with  thine 
own  eyes,  or  heard  the  story  from  some  other  wanderer ;  for 
his  mother  bare  him  to  exceeding  sorrow.  And  speak  me  no 
soft  words  in  ruth  or  pity,  but  tell  me  plainly  how  thou  didst 
get  sight  of  him.  Ah,  I  pray  thee,  if  ever  at  all  my  father, 
good  Odysseus,  made  promise  to  thee  of  word  or  work  and 
fulfilled  the  same  in  the  land  of  the  Trojans,  where  ye 
Achaeans  suffered  affliction,  these  things,  I  pray  thee,  now 
remember  and  tell  me  truth.' 

Then  in  heavy  displeasure  spake  to  him  Menelaus  of  the 
fair  hair :  *  Out  upon  them,  for  truly  in  the  bed  of  a  brave- 
hearted  man  were  they  minded  to  lie,  very  cravens  as  they  are! 
Even  as  when  a  hind  hath  couched  her  newborn  fawns  un- 
weaned  in  a  strong  lion's  lair,  and  searcheth  out  the  mountain- 
knees  and  grassy  hollows,  seeking  pasture,  and  afterward  the 
lion  cometh  back  to  his  bed,  and  sendeth  forth  unsightly  death 
upon  that  pair,  even  so  shall  Odysseus  send  forth  unsightly 
death  upon  the  wooers.      Would  to  our  father  Zeus  and 


ODYSSEY  IV,  341-371.  59 

Athene  and  Apollo,  would  that  in  such  might  as  when  of  old 
in  stablished  Lesbos  he  rose  up  and  wrestled  a  match  with 
^Philomeleides  and  threw  him  mightily,  and  all  the  Achaeans 
rejoiced ;  would  that  in  such  strength  Odysseus  might  consort 
with  the  wooers  :  then  should  they  all  have  swift  fate,  and  bitter 
wedlock!  But  for  that  whereof  thou  askest  and  entreatest 
me,  be  sure  I  will  not  swerve  from  the  truth  in  aught  that 
I  say,  nor  deceive  thee;  but  of  all  that  the  ancient  one  of  the 
sea,  whose  speech  is  sooth,  declared  to  me,  not  a  word  will 
I  hide  or  keep  from  thee. 

*  In  the  river  Aegyptus,*  though  eager  I  was  to  press  onward 
home,  the  gods  they  stayed  me,  for  that  I  had  not  offered 
them  the  acceptable  sacrifice  of  hecatombs,  and  the  gods  ever 
desired  that  men  should  be  mindful  of  their  commandments. 
Now  there  is  an  island  in  the  wash  of  the  waves  over  against 
Aegyptus,  and  men  call  it  Pharos,  within  one  day's  voyage  of 
a  hollow  ship,  when  shrill  winds  blow  fair  in  her  wake.  And 
therein  is  a  good  haven,  whence  men  launch  the  gallant 
ships  into  the  deep  when  they  have  drawn  a  store  of  deep 
black  water.  There  the  gods  held  me  twenty  days,  nor  did 
the  sea-winds  ever  show  their  breath,  they  that  serve  to  waft 
ships  over  the  broad  back  of  the  sea.  And  now  would  all 
our  corn  have  been  spent,  and  likewise  the  strength  of  the 
men,  except  some  goddess  had  taken  pity  on  me  and  saved 
me,  Eidothee,  daughter  of  mighty  Proteus,  the  ancient  one  of 
the  sea.  For  most  of  all  I  moved  her  heart,  when  she  met 
me  wandering  alone  apart  from  my  company,  who  were  ever 
roaming  round  the  isle,  fishing  with  bent  hooks,  for  hunger 
was  gnawing  at  their  belly.  So  she  stood  by,  and  spake  and 
uttered  her  voice,  saying  : 

• "  Art  thou  so  very  foolish,  stranger,  and  feeble-witted,  or 

•  The  only  name  for  the  Nile  in  Homer.  Cf.  Wilkinson,  Ancient 
Egyptians  (1878),  vol.  i.  p.  7. 


6o  OnVSSEV  IV,  372-403. 

art  thou  wilfully  remiss,  and  hast  pleasure  in  suffering  ?  So 
long  time  art  thou  holden  in  the  isle  and  canst  find  no  issue 
therefrom,  while  the  heart  of  thy  company  faileth  within  them?" 

*  Even  so  she  spake,  and  I  answered  her  saying :  "  I  will 
speak  forth,  what  goddess  soever  thou  art,  and  tell  thee  that  in 
no  wise  am  I  holden  here  by  mine  own  will,  but  it  needs  must 
be  that  I  have  sinned  against  the  deathless  gods,  who  keep  the 
wide  heaven.  Howbeit,  do  thou  tell  me — for  the  gods  know 
all  things — which  of  the  immortals  it  is  that  binds  me  here 
and  hath  hindered  me  from  my  way,  and  declare  as  touching 
my  returning  how  I  may  go  over  the  teeming  deep." 

*So  I  spake,  and  straightway  the  fair  goddess  made 
answer :  "  Yea  now,  sir,  I  will  plainly  tell  thee  all.  Hither 
resorteth  that  ancient  one  of  the  sea,  whose  speech  is  sooth, 
the  deathless  Egyptian  Proteus,  who  knows  the  depths  of  every 
sea,  and  is  the  thrall  of  Poseidon,  and  who,  they  say,  is  my 
father  that  begat  me.  If  thou  couldst  but  lay  an  ambush  and 
catch  him,  he  will  surely  declare  to  thee  the  way  and  the 
measure  of  thy  path,  and  will  tell  thee  of  thy  returning,  how 
thou  may  est  go  over  the  teeming  deep.  Yea,  and  he  will 
show  thee,  O  fosterling  of  Zeus,  if  thou  wilt,  what  good 
thing  and  what  evil  hath  been  wrought  in  thy  halls,  whilst 
thou  hast  been  faring  this  long  and  grievous  way." 

*So  she  spake,  but  I  answered  and  said  unto"  her:  "Devise 
now  thyself  the  ambush  to  take  this  ancient  one  divine,  lest 
by  any  chance  he  see  me  first,  or  know  of  my  coming,  and 
avoid  me.     For  a  god  is  hard  for  mortal  man  to  quell."    _     ^ 

*So  spake  I,  and  straightway  the  fair  goddess  made 
answer :  "  Yea  now,  sir,  I  will  plainly  tell  thee  all.  So  often 
as  the  sun  in  his  course  hath  reached  the  mid  heaven,  then 
forth  from  the  brine  comes  the  ancient  one  of  the  sea,  whose 
speech  is  sooth,  before  the  breath  of  the  West  Wind  he  comes, 
and  the  sea's  dark  ripple  covers  him.     And  when  he  is  got 


ODYSSEY  IV,  403-435.  6\ 

forth,  he  lies  down  to  sleep  in  the  hollow  of  the  caves.  And 
around  him  the  seals,  the  brood  of  the  fair  daughter  of  the 
brine,  sleep  all  in  a  flock,  stolen  forth  from  the  grey  sea  water, 
and  bitter  is  the  scent  they  breathe  of  the  deeps  of  the  salt  sea. 
There  will  I  lead  thee  at  the  breaking  of  the  day,  and  couch 
you  all  orderly;  so  do  thou  choose  diligently  three  of  thy 
company,  the  best  thou  hast  in  thy  decked  ships.  And  I  will 
tell  thee  all  the  magic  arts  of  that  old  man.  First,  he  will 
number  the  seals  and  go  over  them ;  but  when  he  has  told 
their  tale  and  beheld  them,  he  will  lay  him  down  in  the  midst, 
as  a  shepherd  mid  the  sheep  of  his  flock.  So  soon  as  ever 
ye  shall  see  him  couched,  even  then  mind  you  of  your  might 
and  strength,  and  hold  him  there,  despite  his  eagerness  and 
striving  to  be  free.  And  he  will  make  assay,  and  take  all 
manner  of  shapes  of  things  that  creep  upon  the  earth,  ot 
water  likewise,  and  of  fierce  fire  burning.  But  do  ye  grasp 
him  steadfastly  and  press  him  yet  the  more,  and  at  length 
when  he  questions  thee  in  his  proper  shape,  as  he  was  when 
first  ye  saw  him  laid  to  rest,  then,  hero,  hold  thy  strong  hands, 
and  let  the  ancient  one  go  free,  and  ask  him  which  of  the 
gods  is  hard  upon  thee,  and  as  touching  thy  returning,  how 
thou  mayest  go  over  the  teeming  deep." 

*  Therewith  she  dived  beneath  the  heaving  sea,  but  I  be- 
took me  to  the  ships  where  they  stood  in  the  sand,  and 
my  heart  was  darkly  troubled  as  I  went.  But  after  I  had 
come  down  to  the  ship  and  to  the  sea,  and  we  had  made 
ready  our  supper  and  immortal  night  had  come  on,  then 
did  we  lay  us  to  rest  upon  the  sea-beach.  So  soon  as  early 
Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered,  in  that  hour  I  walked 
by  the  shore  of  the  wide-wayed  sea,  praying  instantly  to  the 
gods ;  and  I  took  with  me  three  of  my  company,  in  whom 
I  trusted  most  for  every  enterprise. 

'Meanwhile,  so  it  was  that   she  had   plunged   into    the 


62  ODYSSEY  IV,  435-466. 

broad  bosom  of  the  sea,  and  had  brought  from  the  deep  the 
skins  of  four  sea-calves,  and  all  were  newly  flayed,  for  she 
was  minded  to  lay  a  snare  for  her  father.  She  scooped  lairs 
on  the  sea-sand,  and  sat  awaiting  us,  and  we  drew  very  nigh 
her,  and  she  made  us  all  lie  down  in  order,  and  cast  a  skin 
over  each.  There  would  our  ambush  have  been  most  terrible, 
for  the  deadly  stench  of  the  sea-bred  seals  distressed  us  sore: 
nay,  who  would  lay  him  down  t)y  a  beast  of  the  sea?  But 
herself  she  wrought  deliverance,  and  devised  a  great  comfort. 
She  took  ambrosia  of  a  very  sweet  savour,  and  set  it  beneath 
each  man's  nostril,  and  did  away  with  the  stench  of  the  beast. 
So  all  the  morning  we  waited  with  steadfast  heart,  and  the  seals 
came  forth  in  troops  from  the  brine,  and  then  they  couched 
them  all  orderly  by  the  sea-beach.  And  at  high  day  the 
ancient  one  came  forth  from  out  of  the  brine,  and  found  his 
fatted  seals,  yea  and  he  went  along  their  line  and  told  their 
tale;  and  first  among  the  sea- beasts  he  reckoned  us,  and 
guessed  not  that  there  was  guile,  and  afterward  he  too  laid 
him  down.  Then  we  rushed  upon  him  with  a  cry,  and 
cast  our  hands  about  him,  nor  did  that  ancient  one  forget  his 
cunning.  Now  behold,  at  the  first  he  turned  into  a  bearded 
lion,  and  thereafter  into  a  snake,  and  a  pard,  and  a  huge 
boar ;  then  he  took  the  shape  of  running  water,  and  of  a  tall 
and  flowering  tree.  We  the  while  held  him  close  with 
steadfast  heart.  But  when  now  that  ancient  one  of  the  magic 
arts  was  aweary,  then  at  last  he  questioned  me  and  spake 
unto  me,  saying: 

*  "Which  of  the  gods  was  it,  son  of  Atreus,  that  aided  thee 
with  his  counsel,  that  thou  mightest  waylay  and  take  me  per- 
force?    What  wouldest  thou  thereby?" 

'Even  so  he  spake,  but  I  answered  him  saying:  "Old 
man,  thou  knowest  all,  wherefore  dost  thou  question  me 
thereof  with  crooked  words  ?   For  lo,  I  am  holden  long  time  in 


ODYSSEY  IV,  455-495.  6^ 

this  isle,  neither  can  I  find  any  issue  therefrom,  and  my 
heart  faileth  within  me.  Howbeit  do  thou  tell  me — for 
the  gods  know  all  things — which  of  the  immortals  it  is  that 
bindeth  me  here,  and  hath  hindered  me  from  my  way ;  and 
declare  as  touching  my  returning,  how  I  may  go  over  the 
teeming  deep." 

'Even  so  I  spake,  and  he  straightway  answered  me  saying: 
**Nay,  surely  thou  shouldest  have  done  goodly  sacrifice  to 
Zeus  and  the  other  gods  ere  thine  embarking,  that  with 
most  speed  thou  mightest  reach  thy  country,  sailing  over 
the  wine-dark  deep.  For  it  is  not  thy  fate  to  see  thy 
friends,  and  come  to  thy  stablished  house  and  thine 
own  country,  till  thou  hast  passed  yet  again  within  the 
waters  of  Aegyptus,  the  heaven-fed  stream,  and  offered 
holy  hecatombs  to  the  deathless  gods  who  keep  the  wide 
heaven.  So  shall  the  gods  grant  thee  the  path  which  thou 
desirest." 

*  So  spake  he,  but  my  spirit  within  me  was  broken,  for  that 
he  bade  me  again  to  go  to  Aegyptus  over  the  misty  deep, 
a  long  and  grievous  way. 

'Yet  even  so  I  answered  him  saying:  "Old  man,  all 
this  will  I  do,  according  to  thy  word.  But  come,  declare 
me  this,  and  tell  it  all  plainly.  Did  all  those  Achaean s 
return  safe  with  their  ships,  all  whom  Nestor  and  I  left  as  we 
went  from  Troy,  or  perished  any  by  a  shameful  death  aboard 
his  own  ship,  or  in  the  arms  of  his  friends,  after  he  had 
wound  up  the  clew  of  war?" 

'  So  spake  I,  and  anon  he  answered  me  saying :  "  Son 
of  Atreus,  why  dost  thou  straitly  question  me  hereof?  Nay,  it 
is  not  for  thy  good  to  know  or  learn  my  thought ;  for  I  tell 
thee  thou  shalt  not  long  be  tearless,  when  thou  hast  heard 
it  all  aright.  For  many  of  these  were  taken,  and  many 
were  left;  but  two  only  of  the  leaders  of  the  mail-coated 


54  ODYSSEY  IV,  496-527.  ' 

Achaeans  perished  in  returning ;  as  for  the  battle,  thou  thyself 
wast  there.  And  one  methinks  is  yet  alive,  and  is  holden  on 
the  wide  deep.  Aias  in  truth  was  smitten  in  the  midst  of 
his  ships  of  the  long  oars.  Poseidon  at  first  brought  him 
nigh  to  Gyrae,  to  the  mighty  rocks,  and  delivered  him  from 
the  sea.  And  so  would  he  have  fled  his  doom,  albeit  hated 
by  Athene,  had  he  not  let  a  proud  word  fall  in  the  fatal 
darkening  of  his  heart.  He  said  that  in  the  gods'  despite 
he  had  escaped  the  great  gulf  of  the  sea;  and  Poseidon 
heard  his  loud  boasting,  and  presently  caught  up  his  trident 
into  his  strong  hands,  and  smote  the  rock  Gyraean  and  cleft 
it  in  twain.  And  the  one  part  abode  in  his  place,  but  the 
other  fell  into  the  sea,  the  broken  piece  whereon  Aias  sat 
at  the  first,  when  his  heart  was  darkened.  And  the  rock 
bore  him  down  into  the  vast  and  heaving  deep  ;  so  there  he 
perished  when  he  had  drunk  of  the  salt  sea  water.  But  thy 
brother  verily  escaped  the  fates  and  avoided  them  in  his  hol- 
low ships,  for  queen  Hera  saved  him.  But  now  when  he  was 
like  soon  to  reach  the  steep  mount  of  Malea,  lo,  the  storm 
wind  snatched  him  away  and  bore  him  over  the  teeming 
deep,  making  great  moan,  to  the  border  of  the  country 
where  of  old  Thyestes  dwelt,  but  now  Aegisthus  abode  there, 
the  son  of  Thyestes.  But  when  thence  too  there  showed 
a  good  prospect  of  safe  returning,  and  the  gods  changed  the 
wind  to  a  fair  gale,  and  they  had  reached  home,  then  verily 
did  Agamemnon  set  foot  with  joy  upon  his  country's  soil, 
and  as  he  touched  his  own  land  he  kissed  it,  and  many  were 
the  hot  tears  he  let  fall,  for  he  saw  his  land  and  was  glad. 
And  it  was  so  that  the  watchman  spied  him  from  his  tower, 
the  watchman  whom  crafty  Aegisthus  had  led  and  posted 
there,  promising  him  for  a  reward  two  talents  of  gold.  Now 
he  kept  watch  for  the  space  of  a  year,  lest  Agamemnon 
should  pass  by  him  when  he  looked  not,  and  mind  him  of 


ODYSSEY  IV,  S^J-SS^.  6^ 

his  wild  prowess.  So  he  went  to  the  house  to  bear  the 
tidings  to  the  shepherd  of  the  people.  And  straightway 
Aegisthus  contrived  a  cunning  treason.  He  chose  out 
twenty  of  the  best  men  in  the  township,  and  set  an  ambush, 
and  on  the  further  side  of  the  hall  he  commanded  to  pre- 
pare a  feast.  Then  with  chariot  and  horses  he  went  to 
bid  to  the  feast  Agamemnon,  shepherd  of  the  people;  but 
caitiff  thoughts  were  in  his  heart.  He  brought  him  up  to 
his  house,  all  unwitting  of  his  doom,  and  when  he  had 
feasted  him  slew  him,  as  one  slayeth  an  ox  at  the  stall. 
And  none  of  the  company  of  Atreides  that  were  of  his 
following  were  left,  nor  any  of  the  men  of  Aegisthus,  but 
they  were  all  killed  in  the  halls." 

*  So  spake  he,  and  my  spirit  within  me  was  broken,  and  I 
wept  as  I  sat  upon  the  sand,  nor  was  I  minded  any  more  to 
live  and  to  see  the  light  of  the  sun.  But  when  I  had  taken 
my  fill  of  weeping  and  grovelling  on  the  ground,  then  spake 
the  ancient  one  of  the  sea,  whose  speech  is  sooth : 

* "  No  more,  son  of  Atreus,  hold  this  long  weeping  without 
cease,  for  we  shall  find  no  help  therein.  Rather  with  all 
haste  make  essay  that  so  thou  mayest  come  to  thine  own 
country.  For  either  thou  shalt  find  Aegisthus  yet  alive,  or 
it  may  be  Orestes  was  beforehand  with  thee  and  slew  him ; 
so  mayest  thou  chance  upon  his  funeral  feast." 

*  So  he  spake,  and  my  heart  and  lordly  soul  again  were 
comforted  for  all  my  sorrow,  and  I  uttered  my  voice  and 
I  spake  to  him  winged  words : 

*  *'  Their  fate  I  now  know ;  but  tell  me  of  the  third ;  who  is  it 
that  is  yet  Uving  and  holden  on  the  wide  deep,  or  perchance 
is  dead  ?  and  fain  would  I  hear  despite  my  sorrow." 

*  So  spake  I,  and  straightway  he  answered,  and  said  :  *  It  is 
the  son  of  Laertes,  whose  dwelling  is  in  Ithaca  ;  and  I  saw 
him  in   an   island   shedding  big  tears  in  the  halls  of  the 

r 


66  ODYSSEY  IV,  557-59O. 

nymph  Calypso,  who  holds  him  there  perforce ;  so  he  may 
not  oome  to  his  own  country,  for  he  has  by  him  no  ships 
with  oars,  and  no  companions  to  send  him  on  his  way  over 
the  broad  back  of  the  sea.  But  thou,  Menelaus,  son  of 
Zeus,  art  not  ordained  to  die  and  meet  thy  fate  in  Argos, 
the  pasture-land  of  horses,  but  the  deathless  gods  will  convey 
thee  to  the  Elysian  plain  and  the  world's  end,  where  is 
Rhadamanthus  of  the  fair  hair,  where  life  is  easiest  for  men. 
No  snow  is  there,  nor  yet  great  storm,  nor  any  rain;  but 
always  ocean  sendeth  forth  the  breeze  of  the  shrill  West  to 
blow  cool  on  men:  yea,  for  thou  hast  Helen  to  wife,  and 
thereby  they  deem  thee  to  be  son  of  Zeus." 

'  So  spake  he,  and  plunged  into  the  heaving  sea ;  but  I 
betook  me  to  the  ships  with  my  godlike  company,  and  my 
heart  was  darkly  troubled  as  I  went.  Now  after  I  had  come 
down  to  the  ship  and  to  the  sea,  and  had  made  ready  our 
supper,  and  immortal  night  had  come  on,  then  did  we  lay  us 
to  rest  upon  the  sea-beach.  So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone 
forth,  the  rosy-fingered,  first  of  all  we  drew  down  our  ships 
to  the  fair  salt  sea  and  placed  the  masts  and  the  sails  in 
the  gallant  ships,  and  the  crew  too  climbed  on  board,  and  sat 
upon  the  benches  and  smote  the  grey  sea  water  with  their 
oars.  Then  back  I  went  to  the  waters  of  Aegyptus,  the 
heaven-fed  stream,  and  there  I  moored  the  ships  and  ofi"ered 
the  acceptable  sacrifice  of  hecatombs.  So  when  I  had  ap- 
peased the  anger  of  the  everlasting  gods,  I  piled  a  barrow  to 
Agamemnon,  that  his  fame  might  never  be  quenched.  So 
having  fulfilled  all,  I  set  out  for  home,  and  the  deathless 
gods  gave  me  a  fair  wind,  and  brought  me  swiftly  to  mine  own 
dear  country.  But  lo,  now  tarry  in  my  halls  till  it  shall  be 
the  eleventh  day  hence  or  the  twelfth.  Then  will  I  send 
thee  with  all  honour  on  thy  way,  and  give  thee  splendid  gifts, 
three  horses  and  a  polished  car;  and  moreover  I  will  give 


OnVSSEV  IV,  591-521.  67 

thee  a  goodly  chalice,  that  thou  mayest  pour  forth  before 
the  deathless  gods,  and  be  mindful  of  me  all  the  days  of 
thy  life/ 

Then  -wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying:  *Son  of 
Atreus,  nay,  hold  me  not  long  time  here.  Yea  even  for  a 
year  would  I  be  content  to  sit  by  thee,  and  no  desire  for 
home  or  parents  would  come  upon  me  ;  for  I  take  wondrous 
pleasure  in  thy  tales  and  talk.  But  already  my  company 
wearieth  in  fair  Pylos,  and  yet  thou  art  keeping  me  long 
time  here.  And  whatsoever  gift  thou  wouldest  give  me, 
let  it  be  a  thing  to  treasure;  but  horses  I  will  take  none 
to  Ithaca,  but  leave  them  here  to  grace  thine  own  house,  for 
thou  art  lord  of  a  wide  plain  wherein  is  lotus  great  plenty, 
and  therein  is  spear-reed  and  wheat  and  rye,  and  white 
and  spreading  barley.  In  Ithaca  there  are  no  wide  courses, 
nor  meadow  land  at  all.  It  is  a  pasture-land  of  goats,  and 
more  pleasant  in  my  sight  than  one  that  pastureth  horses ; 
for  of  the  isles  that  lie  and  lean  upon  the  sea,  none  are 
fit  for  the  driving  of  horses,  or  rich  in  meadow  land,  and 
least  of  all  is  Ithaca.' 

So  spake  he,  and  Menelaus,  of  the  loud  war  cry,  smiled, 
and  caressed  him  with  his  hand,  and  spake  and  hailed  him : 

*Thou  art  of  gentle  blood,  dear  child,  so  gentle  the 
words  thou  speakest.  Therefore  I  will  make  exchange  of  the 
presents,  as  I  may.  Of  the  gifts,  such  as  are  treasures  stored 
in  my  house,  I  will  give  thee  the  goodliest  and  greatest  of 
price.  I  will  give  thee  a  mixing  bov/1  beautifully  wrought ; 
it  is  all  of  silver,  and  the  lips  thereof  are  finished  with  gold, 
the  work  of  Hephaestus ;  and  the  hero  Phaedimus,  the  king 
of  the  Sidonians,  gave  it  me,  when  his  house  sheltered  me 
on  my  coming  thither,  and  to  thee  now  would  I  give  it.' 

Even  so  they  spake  one  to  another,  while  the  guests  came 
to  the  palace  of  the  divine  king.    They  drave  their  sheep,  and 

F  a 


68  CDVSSEV  IV,  622-652. 

brought  wine  that  maketh  glad  the  heart  of  man :  and  their 
wives  with  fair  tire  sent  them  wheaten  bread.  Thus  were 
these  men  preparing  the  feast  in  the  halls. 

But  the  wooers  meantime  were  before  the  palace  of 
Odysseus,  taking  their  pleasure  in  casting  of  weights  and 
spears,  on  a  levelled  place,  as  heretofore,  in  their  insolence. 
And  Antinous  and  god-like  Eurymachus  were  seated  there, 
the  chief  men  of  the  wooers,  who  were  far  the  most  excellent 
of  all.  And  Noemon,  son  of  Phromius,  drew  nigh  to  them 
and  spake  unto  Antinous  and  questioned  him,  saying: 

*  Antinous,  know  we  at  all,  or  know  we  not,  when  Telem- 
achus  will  return  from  sandy  Pylos?  He  hath  departed 
with  a  ship  of  mine,  and  I  have  need  thereof,  to  cross  over 
into  spacious  Elis,  where  I  have  twelve  brood  mares  with 
hardy  mules  unbroken  at  the  teat ;  I  would  drive  off  one  of 
these  and  break  him  in.' 

So  spake  he,  and  they  were  amazed,  for  they  deemed  not 
that  Telemachus  had  gone  to  Neleian  Pylos,  but  that  he  was 
at  home  somewhere  in  the  fields,  whether  among  the  flocks, 
or  with  the  swineherd. 

Then  Antinous,  son  of  Eupeithes,  spake  to  him  in  turn : 
*  Tell  me  the  plain  truth ;  when  did  he  go,  and  what  noble 
youths  went  with  him  ?  Were  they  chosen  men  of  Ithaca  or 
hirelings  and  thralls  of  his  own  ?  He  was  in  case  to  bring 
even  that  about.  And  tell  me  this  in  good  sooth,  that  I  may, 
know  for  a  surety :  did  he  take  thy  black  ship  from  thee 
perforce  against  thy  will?  or  didst  thou  give  it  him  of  free 
will  at  his  entreaty  ? ' 

Then  Noemon,  son  of  Phromius,  answered  him  saying :  '  I 
gave  it  him  myself  of  free  will.  What  can  any  man  do,  when 
such  an  one,  so  bestead  with  care,  begs  a  favour?  it  were 
hard  to  deny  the  gift.  The  youths  who  next  to  us  are 
noblest  in  the  land,  even  these  have  gone  with  him ;  and  I 


ODYSSEY  IV,  653-68 r.  69 

marked  their  leader  on  board  ship,  Mentor,  or  a  god  who  in 
all  things  resembled  Mentor.  But  one  matter  I  marvel  at : 
I  saw  the  goodly  Mentor  here  yesterday  toward  dawn,  though 
already  he  had  embarked  for  Pylos.' 

He  spake  and  withal  departed  to  his  father's  house.  And 
the  proud  spirits  of  these  twain  were  angered,  and  they  made 
the  wooers  sit  down  together  and  cease  from  their  games. 
And  among  them  spake  Antinous,  son  of  Eupeithes,  in  dis- 
pleasure ;  and  his  black  heart  was  wholly  filled  with  rage, 
and  his  eyes  were  like  flaming  fire : 

*  Out  on  him,  a  proud  deed  hath  Telemachus  accomplished 
with  a  high  hand,  even  this  journey,  and  we  thought  that  he  * 
would  never  bring  it  to  pass !   This  lad  hath  clean  gone  with- 
out more  ado,  in  spite  of  us  all;  his  ship  he  hath  let  haul  to 
the  sea,  and  chosen  the  noblest  in  the  township.     He  will 
begin  to  be  our  bane  even  more  than  heretofcwe ;  but  may 
Zeus  destroy  his  might,  not  ours,  ere  he  reach  the  measure  of 
manhood  !    But  come,  give  me  a  swift  ship  and  twenty  men,  . 
that  I  may  lie  in  watch  and  wait  even  for  him  on  his  way      y 
home,  in  the  strait  between  Ithaca  and  rugged  Samos,  that 

so  he  may  have  a  woeful  end  of  his  cruising  in  quest  of  his 
father.^ 

So  spake  he,  and  they  all  assented  thereto,  and  bade  him 
to  the  work.  And  thereupon  they  arose  and  went  to  the 
house  of  Odysseus. 

Now  it  was  no  long  time  before  Penelope  heard  of  the 
counsel  that  the  wooers  had  devised  in  the  deep  of  their 
heart.  For  the  henchman  Medon  told  her  thereof,  who 
stood  without  the  court  and  heard  their  purposes,  while  they 
were  weaving  their  plot  within.  So  he  went  on  his  way 
through  the  halls  to  bring  the  news  to  Penelope ;  and  as  he 
stept  down  over  the  threshold,  Penelope  spake  unto  him : 

*  Henchman,  wherefore  have  the  noble  wooers  sent  thee 


7d  ODVSSEV  IV,  681-710. 

forth?  Was  it  to  tell  the  handmaids  of  divine  Odysseus 
to  cease  from  their  work,  and  prepare  a  banquet  for 
them?  Nay,  after  thus  much  wooing,  never  again  may 
they  come  together,  but  here  this  day  sup  for  their  last 
and  latest  time;  all  ye  who  assemble  so  often,  and 
waste  much  livelihood,  the  wealth  of  wise  Telemachus ! 
Long  ago  when  ye  were  children,  ye  marked  not  your 
fathers'  telling,  what  manner  of  man  was  Odysseus 
among  them,  one  that  wrought  no  iniquity  toward  any 
man,  nor  spake  aught  unrighteous  in  the  township,  as 
is  the  wont  of  divine  kings.  One  man  a  king  is  like  to 
hate,  another  he  might  chance  to  love.  But  never  did 
he  do  aught  at  all  presumptuously  to  any  man.  Nay,  it  is 
plain  what  spirit  ye  are  of,  and  your  unseemly  deeds  are 
manifest  to  all,  nor  is  there  any  gratitude  left  for  kindness 
done.' 

Then  Medon,  wise  of  heart,  answered  her :  *  Would,  oh 
queen,  that  this  were  the  crowning  evil!  But  the  wooers 
devise  another  far  greater  and  more  grievous,  which  I  pray 
the  son  of  Cronos  may  never  fulfil!  They  are  set  on 
slaying  Telemachus  with  the  edge  of  the  sword  on  his  home- 
ward way;  for  he  is  gone  to  fair  Pylos  and  goodly  Lace- 
daemon,  to  seek  tidings  of  his  father/ 

So  spake  he,  but  her  knees  were  loosened  where  she 
stood,  and  her  heart  melted  within  her,  and  long  time  was 
she  speechless,  and  lo,  her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears  and 
the  voice  of  her  utterance  was  stayed.  And  at  the  last  she 
answered  him  and  said  : 

*  Henchman,  wherefore  I  pray  thee  is  my  son  departed  ? 
There  is  no  need  that  he  should  go  abroad  on  swift  ships, 
that  serve  men  for  horses  on  the  sea,  and  that  cross  the 
great  wet  waste.  Is  it  that  even  his  own  name  may  no 
more  be  left  upon  earth  ? ' 


ODVSSEV  IV,  711-741.  71 

Then  Medon,  wise  of  heart,  answered  her:  *  I  know  not 
whether  some  god  set  him  on,  or  whether  his  own  spirit 
stirred  him  to  go  to  Pylos  to  seek  tidings  of  his  father's 
return,  or  to  hear  what  end  he  met/ 

He  spake,  and  departed  through  the  house  of  Odysseus, 
and  on  her  fell  a  cloud  of  consuming  grief;  so  that  she 
might  no  more  endure  to  seat  her  on  a  chair,  whereof 
there  were  many  in  the  house,  but  there  she  crouched 
on  the  threshold  of  her  well-builded  chamber,  wailing  pit- 
eously,  and  her  handmaids  round  her  made  low  moan,  as 
many  as  were  in  the  house  with  her,  young  and  old.  And 
Penelope  spake  among  them  pouring  forth  her  lamentation  : 

*  Hear  me,  my  friends,  for  the  Olympian  sire  hath  given 
me  pain  exceedingly  beyond  all  women  who  were  born  and 
bred  in  my  day.  For  erewhile  I  lost  my  noble  lord  of  the 
lion  heart,  adorned  with  all  perfection  among  the  Danaans, 
my  good  lord,  whose  fame  is  noised  abroad  from  Hellas 
to  mid  Argos.  And  now  again  the  storm-winds  have 
snatched  away  my  well-beloved  son  without  tidings  from  our 
halls,  nor  heard  I  of  his  departure.  Oh,  women,  hard  of 
heart,  that  even  ye  did  not  each  one  let  the  thought  come 
into  your  minds,  to  rouse  me  from  my  couch  when  he  went 
to  the  black  hollow  ship,  though  ye  knew  full  well  thereof  I 
For  had  I  heard  that  he  was  purposing  this  journey,  verily 
he  should  have  stayed  here  still,  though  eager  to  be  gone, 
or  have  left  me  dead  in  the  halls.  Howbeit  let  some  one 
make  haste  to  call  the  ancient  Dolius,  my  thrall,  whom  my 
father  gave  me  ere  yet  I  had  come  hither,  who  keepeth  my 
garden  of  trees.  So  shall  he  go  straightway  and  sit  by 
Laertes,  and  tell  him  all,  if  perchance  Laertes  may  weave 
some  counsel  in  his  heart,  and  go  forth  and  make  his 
plaint  to  the  people,  who  are  purposed  to  destroy  his  seed, 
and  the  seed  of  god-like  Odysseus.' 


73  ODVSSEV  IV,  74:^-771. 

Then  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  answered  her  :  'Dear  lady, 

aye,  slay  me  if  thou  wilt  with  the  pitiless  sword  or  let  me 

yet  live  on  in  the  house, — yet  will  I  not  hide   my  saying 

from  thee.     I  knew  all  this,  and  gave  him  whatsoever  he 

commanded,  bread  and  sweet  wine.     And  he  took  a  great 

oath  of  me  not  to  tell  thee  till  at  least  the  twelfth  day  should 

come,  or  thou  thyself  shouldst  miss  him  and  hear  of  his 

departure,  that  thou  mightest  not  mar  thy  fair  flesh  with 

thy  tears.     But  now,  wash  thee  in  water,  and  take  to  thee 

clean  raiment  and  ascend  to  thy  upper  chamber  with  the 

women  thy  handmaids,  and  pray  to  Athene,  daughter  of 

Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis.     For  so  may  she  save  him  even 

from  death.   And  heap  not  troubles  on  an  old  man's  trouble; 

for  the  seed  of  the  son  of  Arceisius,  is  not,  methinks,  utterly 

./  CviWA/dlated  by  the  blessed  gods,  but  someone  will  haply  yet  remain 

rf  \)    ri/     ^^  possess  these  lofty  halls,  and  the  fat  fields  far  away/ 

^  ^^_     [)  So   spake  she,  and  lulled  her   queen's  lamentation,  and 

^{jj^KP^  made  her  eyes  to  cease  from  weeping.     So  she  washed  her 

o.-.^  <^\^        jjj  ^y^|.gj.^  2Xidi  took  to  her  clean  raiment,  and  ascended  to  the 

\  ^yJ^Y^^^^  upper  chamber  with  the  women  her  handmaids,  and  placed 

the  meal  for   sprinkling   in  a  basket,   and    prayed  unto 

Athene : 

*  Hear  me,  child  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis,  unwearied 
maiden  I  If  ever  wise  Odysseus  in  his  halls  burnt  for  thee 
fat  slices  of  the  thighs  of  heifer  or  of  sheep,  these  things, 
I  pray  thee,  now  remember,  and  save  my  dear  son,  and  ward 
from  him  the  wooers  in  the  naughtiness  of  their  pride.' 

Therewith  she  raised  a  cry,  and  the  goddess  heard  her 
prayer.  But  the  wooers  clamoured  through  the  shadowy 
halls,  and  thus  would  some  proud  youth  say : 

*  Verily  this  queen  of  many  wooers  prepareth  our  marriage, 
nor  knoweth  at  all  how  that  for  her  son  death  hath  been 
ordained.' 


ODYSSEY  IV,  772-803.  73 

Thus  would  certain  of  them  speak,  but  they  knew  not  how 
these  things  were  ordained.  And  Antinous  made  harangue 
and  spake  among  them : 

*  Good  sirs,  my  friends,  shun  all  disdainful  words  alike,  lest 
someone  hear  and  tell  it  even  in  the  house.  But  come  let 
us  arise,  and  in  silence  accomplish  that  whereof  we  spake, 
for  the  counsel  pleased  us  every  one/ 

Therewith  he  chose  twenty  men  that  were  the  best,  and 
they  departed  to  the  swift  ship  and  the  sea-banks.  So 
first  of  all  they  drew  the  ship  down  to  the  deep  water,  and 
placed  the  mast  and  sails  in  the  black  ship,  and  fixed  the 
oars  in  leathern  loops  all  orderly,  and  spread  forth  the  white 
sails.  And  squires,  haughty  of  heart,  bare  for  them  their 
arms.  And  they  moored  her  high  out  in  the  shore  water, 
and  themselves  disembarked.  There  they  supped  and  waited 
for  evening  to  come  on. 

But  the  wise  Penelope  lay  there  in  her  upper  chamber, 
fasting  and  tasting  neither  meat  nor  drink,  musing  whether 
her  noble  son  should  escape  death,  or  even  fall  before  the 
proud  wooers.  And  as  a  lion  broods  all  in  fear  among  the 
press  of  men;  when  they  draw  the  crafty  ring  around  him, 
so  deeply  was  she  musing  when  deep  sleep  came  over 
her.  And  she  sank  back  in  sleep  and  all  her  joints  were 
loosened.    • 

Now  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  turned  to  other 
thoughts.  She  made  a  phantom,  and  fashioned  it  after  the 
likeness  of  a  woman,  Iphthime,  daughter  of  great-hearted 
Icarius,  whom  Eumelus  wedded,  whose  dwelling  was  in 
Pherae.  And  she  sent  it  to  the  house  of  divine  Odysseus  to 
bid  Penelope,  amid  her  sorrow  and  lamenting,  to  cease 
from  her  weeping  and  tearful  lamentation.  So  the  phantom 
passed  into  the  chamber  by  the  thong  of  the  bolt,  and  stood 
above  her  head  and  spake  unto  her,  saying : 


yx  ODYSSEY  IV,  804-835. 

'Sleepest  thou,  Penelope,  stricken  at  heart?  Nay,  even 
the  gods  who  live  at  ease  suffer  thee  not  to  wail  or  be 
afflicted,  seeing  that  thy  son  is  yet  to  return;  for  no  sinner 
is  he  in  the  eyes  of  the  gods/ 

Then  wise  Penelope  made  her  answer  as  she  slumbered 
very  softly  at  the  gates  of  dreams : 

*  Wherefore,  sister,  hast  thou  come  hither,  that  before  wert 
not  wont  to  come,  for  thou  hast  thine  habitation  very  far 
away?  Biddest  thou  me  indeed  to  cease  from  the  sor- 
rows and  pains,  so  many  that  disquiet  my  heart  and  soul  ? 
Erewhile  I  lost  my  noble  lord  of  the  lion  heart,  adorned  with 
all  perfection  among  the  Danaans,  my  true  lord,  whose  fame  is 
noised  abroad  from  Hellas  to  mid  Argos.  And  now,  again, 
my  well-beloved  son  is  departed  on  his  hollow  ship,  poor 
child,  not  skilled  in  toils  or  in  the  gatherings  of  men.  For 
him  I  sorrow  yet  more  than  for  my  lord,  and  I  tremble  and 
fear  for  him  lest  aught  befal  him,  whether,  it  may  be,  amid 
that  folk  where  he  is  gone,  or  in  the  deep.  For  many 
foemen  devise  evil  against  him,  and  go  about  to  kill  him,  or 
ever  he  come  to  his  own  country/ 

And  the  dim  phantom  answered  her,  and'  said :  '  Take 
courage,  and  be  not  so  sorely  afraid.  For  lo,  such  a  friend 
goes  to  guide  him,  as  all  men  pray  to  stand  by  them, 
for  that  she  hath  the  power,  even  Pallas  Athene.  And  she 
pitieth  thee  in  thy  sorrow,  and  now  hath  sent  me  forth  to 
speak  these  words  to  thee.' 

And  wise  Penelope  answered  her,  saying :  *  If  thou  art 
indeed  a  god,  and  hast  heard  the  word  of  a  god,  come, 
I  pray  thee,  and  tell  me  tidings  concerning  that  ill-fated 
man,  whether  perchance  he  is  yet  alive  and  sees  the  light  of 
the  sun,  or  hath  already  died,  and  is  a  dweller  in  the  house 
of  Hades.' 

And  the  dim  phantom  answered  her  and  said:   *Con- 


ODYSSEY  IV,  836-847.  75 

cerning  him  I  will  not  tell  thee  all  the  tale,  whether  he  be 
alive  or  dead ;  it  is  ill  to  speak  words  light  as  wind/ 

Therewith  the  phantom  slipped  away  by  the  bolt  of  the 
door  and  passed  into  the  breath  of  the  wind.  And  the 
daughter  of  Icarius  started  up  from  sleep,  and  her  heart, 
was  cheered,  so  clear  was  the  vision  that  sped  toward  her 
in  the  dead  of  the  night. 

Meanwhile  the  wooers  had  taken  ship  and  were  sailing 
over  the  wet  ways,  pondering  in  their  hearts  sheer  death  for 
'Telemachus.  Now  there  is  a  rocky  isle  in  the  mid  sea,  mid- 
way between  Ithaca  and  rugged  Samos,  Asteris,  a  little  isle; 
and  there  is  a  harbour  therein  with  a  double  entrance,  where 
ships  may  ride.  There  the  Achaeans  abode  lying  in  wait 
for  Telemachus. 


BOOK  V. 

Tlie  Gods  in  council  command  Cal\rpso  by  Hermes  to  send  away 
Odysseus  on  a  raft  of  trees ;  and  Poseidon,  returning  from  Ethiopia  and 
seeing  him  on  the  coast  of  Phaeacia,  scattered  his  raft ;  and  how  by  the  help 
of  Ino  he  was  thrown  ashore,  and  slept  on  a  heap  of  dry  leaves  till  the  next 
day. 

Now  the  Dawn  arose  from  her  couch,  from  the  side  of  the 
lordly  Tithonus,  to  bear  light  to  the  immortals  and  to  mortal 
men.  And  lo,  the  gods  were  gathering  to  session,  and 
among  them  Zeus,  that  thunders  on  high,  whose  might  is 
above  all.  And  Athene  told  them  the  tale  of  the  many- 
woes  of  Odysseus,  recalling  them  to  mind;  for  near  her 
heart  was  he  that  then  abode  in  the  dwelling  of  the  nymph  : 

*  Father  Zeus,  and  all  ye  other  blessed  gods  that  live  for 
ever,  henceforth  let  not  any  sceptred  king  be  kind  and  gentle 
with  all  his  heart,  nor  minded  to  do  righteously,  but  let  him 
alway  be  a  hard  man  and  work  unrighteousness,  for  behold, 
there  is  none  that  remembereth  divine  Odysseus  of  the 
people  whose  lord  he  was,  and  was  gentle  as  a  father. 
Howbeit,  as  for  him  he  lieth  in  an  island  suffering  strong 
pains,  in  the  halls  of  the  nymph  Calypso,  who  holdeth  him 
perforce ;  so  he  may  not  reach  his  own  country,  for  he  hath 
no  ships  by  him  with  oars,  and  no  companions  to  send  him 
on  his  way  over  the  broad  back  of  the  sea.  And  now, 
again,  they  are  set  on  slaying  his  beloved  son  on  his  home- 
ward way,  for  he  is  gone  to  fair  Pylos  and  to  goodly 
Lacedaemon,  to  seek  tidings  of  his  father.' 

And  Zeus,  gatherer  of  the  clouds,  answered  and  spake 
unto  her :  *  My  child,  what  word  hath  escaped  the  door  of 
thy  lips  ?     Nay,  didst  thou  not  thyself  plan  this  device,  that 


ODYSSEY  Vy  24-54.  77 

Odysseus  may  assuredly  take  vengeance  on  those  men  at  his 
coming  ?  As  for  Telemachus,  do  thou  guide  him  by  thine 
art,  as  well  thou  mayest,  that  so  he  may  come  to  his  own 
country  all  unharmed,  and  the  wooers  may  return  in  their 
ship  with  their  labour  all  in  vain/ 

Therewith  he  spake  to  Hermes,  his  dear  son :  *  Hermes, 
forasmuch  as  even  in  all  else  thou  art  our  herald;  tell  unto 
the  nymph  of  the  braided  tresses,  my  unerring  counsel,  even 
the  return  of  the  patient  Odysseus,  how  he  is  to  come  to 
his  home,  with  no  furtherance  of  gods  or  of  mortal  men. 
Nay,  he  shall  sail  on  a  well-bound  raft,  in  sore  distress,  and 
on  the  twentieth  day  arrive  at  fertile  Scheria,  even  at  the  land 
of  the  Phaeacians,  who  are  near  of  kin  to  the  gods.  And  they 
shall  give  him  all  worship  heartily  as  to  a  god,  and  send  him 
on  his  way  in  a  ship  to  his  own  dear  country,  with  gifts  of 
bronze  and  gold,  and  raiment  in  plenty,  much  store,  such 
as  never  would  Odysseus  have  won  for  himself  out  of  Troy, 
yea,  though  he  had.  returned  unhurt  with  the  share  of  the 
spoil  that  fell  to  him.  On  such  wise  is  he  fated  to  see 
his  friends,  and  come  to  his  high-roofed  home  and  his  own 
country.* 

So  spake  he,  nor  heedless  was  the  messenger,  the  slayer 
of  Argos.  Straightway  he  bound  beneath  his  feet  his 
lovely  golden  sandals,  that  wax  not  old,  that  bare  him 
alike  over  the  wet  sea  and  over  the  limitless  land,  swift  as  the 
breath  of  the  wind.  And  he  took  the  wand  wherewith  he 
lulls  the  eyes  of  whomso  he  will,  while  others  again  he  even 
wakes  from  out  of  sleep.  With  this  rod  in  his  hand  flew 
the  strong  slayer  of  Argos.  Above  Pieria  he  passed  and 
leapt  from  the  upper  air  into  the  deep.  Then  he  sped  along 
the  wave  like  the  cormorant,  that  chaseth  the  fishes  through 
the  perilous  gulfs  of  the  unharvested  sea,  and  wetteth  his  thick 
plumage  in  the  brine.     Such  like  did  Hermes  ride  upon  the 


78  onvssEV  V,  54-88. 

press  of  the  waves.  But  when  he  had  now  reached  that  far-off 
tsle,  he  went  forth  from  the  sea  of  violet  blue  to  get  him  up 
into  the  land,  till  he  came  to  a  great  cave,  wherein  dwelc  the 
nymph  of  the  braided  tresses:  and  he  found  her  within. 
And  on  the  hearth  there  was  a  great  fire  burning,  and  from 
afar  through  the  isle  was  smelt  the  fragrance  of  cleft  cedar 
blazing,  and  of  sandal  wood.  And  the  nymph  within  was 
singing  with  a  sweet  voice  as  she  fared  to  and  fro  before 
the  loom,  and  wove  with  a  shuttle  of  gold.  And  round  about 
the  cave  there  was  a  wood  blossoming,  alder  and  poplar  and 
sweet- smelling  cypress.  And  therein  roosted  birds  long  of 
wing,  owls  and  falcons  and  chattering  sea-crows,  which 
have  their  business  in  the  waters.  And  lo,  there  about  the 
hollow  cave  trailed  a  gadding  garden  vine,  all  rich  with 
clusters.  And  fountains  four  set  orderly  were  running  with 
clear  water,  hard  by  one  another,  turned  each  to  his  own 
course.  And  all  around  soft  meadows  bloomed  of  violets 
and  parsley,  yea,  even  a  deathless  god  who  came  thither 
might  wonder  at  the  sight  and  be  glad  at  heart.  There 
the  messenger,  the  slayer  of  Argos,  stood  and  wondered. 
Now  when  he  had  gazed  at  all  with  wonder,  anon  he  went 
into  the  wide  cave;  nor  did  Calypso,  that  fair  goddess, 
fail  to  know  him,  when  she  saw  him  face  to  face;  for 
the  gods  use  not  to  be  strange  one  to  another,  the  im- 
mortals, not  though  one  have  his  habitation  far  away. 
But  he  found  not  Odysseus,  the  greathearted,  within  the 
cave,  who  sat  weeping  on  the  shore  even  as  aforetime, 
straining  his  soul  with  tears  and  groans  and  griefs,  and  as 
he  wept  he  looked  wistfully  over  the  unharvested  deep. 
And  Calypso,  that  fair  goddess,  questioned  Hermes,  when 
she  had  made  him  sit  on  a  bright  shining  seat : 

'Wherefore,  I  pray  thee,  Hermes,  of  the  golden  wand, 
hast  thou  come  hither,  worshipful  and  welcome,  whereas  as 


ODYSSEY  V,  88-119.  79 

of  old  thou  wert  not  wont  to  visit  me  ?  Tell  me  all  thy 
thought ;  my  heart  is  set  on  fulfilling  it,  if  fulfil  it  I  may,  and 
if  it  hath  been  fulfilled  in  the  counsel  of  fate.  But  now 
follow  me  further,  that  I  may  set  before  thee  the  entertain- 
ment of  strangers/ 

Therewith  the  goddess  spread  a  table  with  ambrosia  and 
set  it  by  him,  and  mixed  the  ruddy  nectar.  So  the  mes- 
senger, the  slayer  of  Argos,  did  eat  and  drink.  Now  after 
he  had  supped^nd  comforted  his  soul  with  food,  at  the  last 
he  answered,  and  spake  to  her  on  this  wise  : 

*  Thou  makest  question  of  me  on  my  coming,  a  goddess 
of  a  god,  and  I  will  tell  thee  this  my  saying  truly,  at  thy  com- 
mand. 'Twas  Zeus  that  bade  me  come  hither,  by  no  will 
of  mine ;  nay,  who  of  his  free  will  would  speed  over  such 
a  wondrous  space  of  brine,  whereby  is  no  city  of  mortals 
that  do  sacrifice  to  the  gods,  and  offer  choice  hecatombs? 
But  surely  it  is  in  no  wise  possible  for  another  god  to  go  be- 
yond or  to  make  void  the  purpose  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis. 
He  saith  that  thou  hast  with  thee  a  man  most  wretched 
beyond  his  fellows,  beyond  those  men  that  round  the  burg  of 
Priam  for  nine  years  fought,  and  in  the  tenth  year  sacked 
the  city  and  departed  homeward.  Yet  on  the '  way  they 
sinned  against  Athene,  and  she  raised  upon  them  an  evil 
blast  and  long  waves  of  the  sea.  Then  all  the  rest  of  his 
good  company  was  lost,  but  it  came  to  pass  that  the  wind 
bare  and  the  wave  brought  him  hither.  And  now  Zeus  bid- 
deth  thee  send  him  hence  with  what  speed  thou  mayest, 
for  it  is  not  ordained  that  he  die  away  from  his  friends,  but 
rather  it  is  his  fate  to  look  on  them  even  yet,  and  to  come 
to  his  high-roofed  home  and  his  own  country,' 

So  spake  he,  and  Calypso,  that  fair  goddess,  shuddered 
and  uttered  her  voice,  and  spake  unto  him  winged  words : 
*  Hard  are  ye  gods  and  jealous  exceeding,  who  ever  grudge 


8o  ODVSSEV  V,   119-149. 

goddesses  openly  to  mate  with  men,  if  any  make  a  mortal 
her  dear  bed- fellow.  Even  so  when  rosy-fingered  Dawn 
took  Orion  for  her  lover,  ye  gods  that  hve  at  ease  were 
jealous  thereof,  till  chaste  Artemis,  of  the  golden  throne, 
slew  him  in  Ortygia  with  the  visitation  of  her  gentle  shafts. 
So  too  when  fair- tressed  Demeter  yielded  to  her  love,  and 
lay  with  lasion  in  the  thrice-ploughed  fallow  field,  Zeus  was 
not  long  without  tidings  thereof,  and  cast  at  him  with  his 
while  bolt  and  slew  him.  So  again  ye  g^ds  now  grudge 
that  a  mortal  man  should  dwell  with  me.  Him  I  saved  as  he 
went  all  alone  bestriding  the  keel  of  a  bark,  for  that  Zeus 
had  crushed*  and  cleft  his  swift  ship  with  a  white  bolt 
in  the  midst  of  the  wine-dark  deep.  There  all  the  rest  of  his 
good  company  was  lost,  but  it  came  to  pass  that  the  wind 
bare  and  the  wave  brought  him  hither.  And  him  have  I 
loved  and  cherished,  and  I  said  that  I  would  make  him  to 
know  not  death  and  age  for  ever.  Yet  forasmuch  as  it  is  in 
no  wise  possible  for  another  god  to  go  beyond,  or  make  void 
the  purpose  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis,  let  him  away  over  the 
unharvested  seas,  if  the  summons  and  the  bidding  be  of 
Zeus.  But  I  will  give  him  no  despatch,  not  I,  for  I  have 
no  ships  by  me  with  oars,  nor  company  to  bear  him  on  his 
way  over  the  broad  back  of  the  sea.  Yet  will  I  be  forward 
to  put  this  in  his  mind,  and  will  hide  nought,  that  all  un- 
harmed he  may  come  to  his  own  country.* 

Then  the  messenger,  the  slayer  of  Argos,  answered  her : 
*  Yea,  speed  him  now  upon  his  path  and  have  regard  unto 
the  wrath  of  Zeus,  lest  haply  he  be  angered  and  bear  hard 
on  thee  hereafter.* 

Therewith  the  great  slayer  of  Argos  departed,  but  the  lady 
nymph  went  on  her  way  to   the  great-hearted  Odysseus, 

♦  It  seems  very  doubtful  whether  cAffas  can  bear  this  meaning.  The 
reading  kkdaas,  '  smote,'  preserved  by  the  Schol.  is  highly  probable. 


ODVSSEV  V,  150-180.  .  81 

when  she  had  heard  the  message  of  Zeus.  And  there 
she  found  him  sitting  on  the  shore,  and  his  eyes  were 
never  dry  of  tears,  and  his  sweet  Hfe  was  ebbing  away 
as  he  mourned  for  his  return;  for  the  nymph  no  more 
found  favour  in  his  sight.  Howsoever  by  night  he  would 
sleep  by  her,  as  needs  he  must,  in  the  hollow  caves,  unwilling 
lover  by  a  willing  lady.  And  in  the  day-time  he  would  sit 
on  the  rocks  and  on  the  beach,  straining  his  soul  with  tears, 
and  groans,  and  griefs,  and  through  his  tears  he  would  look 
wistfully  over  the  unharvested  deep.  So  standing  near  him 
that  fair  goddess  spake  to  him  : 

*  Hapless  man,  sorrow  no  more  I  pray  thee  in  this  isle, 
nor  let  thy  good  life  waste  away,  for  even  now  will  I  send 
thee  hence  with  all  my  heart.  Nay,  arise  and  cut  long  beams, 
and  fashion  a  wide  raft  with  the  axe,  and  lay  deckings  high 
thereupon,  that  it  may  bear  thee  over  the  misty  deep.  And 
I  will  place  therein  bread  and  water,  and  red  wine  to  thy 
heart's  desire,  to  keep  hunger  far  away.  And  I  will  put 
raiment  upon  thee,  and  send  a  fair  gale  in  ihy  wake,  that  so 
thou  mayest  come  all  unharmed  to  thine  own  country,  if 
indeed  it  be  the  good  pleasure  of  the  gods  who  hold 
wide  heaven,  who  are  stronger  than  I  am  both  to  will  and 
to  do.' 

So  she  spake,  and  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  shud- 
dered, and  uttering  his  voice  spake  to  her  winged  words  : 
*  Herein,  goddess,  thou  hast  plainly  some  other  thought,  and 
in  no  wise  my  furtherance,  for  that  thou  biddest  me  to  cross 
in  a  raft  the  great  gulf  of  the  sea  so  dread  and  difficult, 
which  not  even  the  swift  gallant  ships  pass  over  rejoicing  in 
the  breeze  of  Zeus.  Nor  would  I  go  aboard  a  raft  to  dis- 
pleasure thee,  unless  thou  wilt  deign,  O  goddess,  to  swear  a 
great  oath  not  to  plan  any  hidden  guile  to  mine  own  hurt.' 

So  spake  he,  and  Calypso,  the  fair  goddess,  smiled 
o 


B:l  ODYSSEY  V,  181-2TI. 


and  caressed  him  with  her  hand,  and  spake  and  hailed 
him : 

'Knavish  thou  art,  and  no  weakling*  in  wit,  thou  that 
hast  conceived  and  spoken  such  a  word.  Let  earth  be  now 
witness  hereto,  and  the  wide  heaven  above,  and  that  water  of 
the  Styx  that  flows  below,  the  greatest  oath  and  the  most 
terrible  to  the  blessed  gods,  that  I  will  not  plan  any  hidden 
guile  to  thine  own  hurt.  Nay,  but  my  thoughts  are  such, 
and  such  will  be  my  counsel,  as  I  would  devise  for  myself,  if 
ever  so  sore  a  need  came  over  me.  For  I  too  have  a 
righteous  mind,  and  my  heart  within  me  is  not  of  iron,  but 
pitiful  even  as  thine.* 

Therewith  the  fair  goddess  led  the  way  quickly,  and  he 
followed  hard  in  the  steps  of  the  goddess.  And  they  reached 
the  hollow  cave,  the  goddess  and  the  man ;  so  he  sat  him 
down  upon  the  chair  whence  Hermes  had  arisen,  and  the 
nymph  placed  by  him  all  manner  of  food  to  eat  and  drink, 
such  as  is  meat  for  men.  As  for  her  she  sat  over  against 
divine  Odysseus,  and  the  handmaids  placed  by  her  ambrosia 
and  nectar.  So  they  put  forth  their  hands  upon  the  good  cheer 
set  before  them.  But  after  they  had  taken  their  fill  of  meat 
and  drink,  Calypso,  the  fair  goddess,  spake  first  and  said : 

*  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  so  it  is  indeed  thy  wish  to  get  thee  home  to  thine 
own  dear  country  even  in  this  hour?  Good  fortune  go 
with  thee  even  so !  Yet  didst  thou  know  in  thine  heart  what 
a  measure  of  suffering  thou  art  ordained  to  fulfil,  or  ever 
thou  reach  thine  own  country,  here,  even  here,  thou  wouldst 
abide  with  me  and  keep  this  house,  and  wouldst  never  taste 
of  death,  though  thou  longest  to  see  thy  wife,  for  whom 
thou  hast  ever  a  desire  day  by  day.     Not  in  sooth  that  I 

*  dvocpdjXios,  from  root  pv,  'ill-grown,'  i.e.  a  weakling,  in  the  literal 
sense  as  B.  xi.  249,  xiv.  212,  or  metaphorical,  as  here  and  viii.  177. 


ODYSSEY  F,  ^1 1-244.  ^3 


avow  me  to  be  less  noble  than  she  in  form  or  fashion,  for  it 
is  in  no  wise  meet  that  mortal  women  should  match  them 
with  immortals,  in  shape  and  comeliness/ 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered,  and  spake 
unto  her:  *Be  not  wroth  with  me  hereat,  goddess  and  queen. 
Myself  I  know  it  well,  how  wise  Penelope  is  meaner  to 
look  upon  than  thou,  in  comeliness  and  stature.  But  she  is 
mortal  and  thou  knowest  not  age  nor  death.  Yet  even  so,  I 
wish  and  long  day  by  day  to  fare  homeward  and  see  the 
day  of  my  returning.  Yea,  and  if  some  god  shall  wreck  me 
in  the  wine-dark  deep,  even  so  I  will  endure,  with  a  heart 
within  me  patient  of  affliction.  For  already  have  I  suffered 
full  much,  and  much  have  I  toiled  in  perils  of  waves  and 
war ;  let  this  be  added  to  the  tale  of  those.' 

So  spake  he,  and  the  sun  sank  and  darkness  came  on. 
Then  they  twain  went  into  the  chamber  of  the  hollow  rock, 
and  had  their  delight  of  love,  abiding  each  by  other. 

So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered,  anon 
Odysseus  put  on  him  a  mantle  and  doublet,  and  the  nymph 
clad  her  in  a  great  shining  robe,  light  of  woof  and  gracious, 
and  about  her  waist  she  cast  a  fair  golden  girdle,  and  a  veil 
withal  upon  her  head.  Then  she  considered  of  the  sending 
of  Odysseus,  the  great-hearted.  She  gave  him  a  great  axe, 
fitted  to  his  grasp,  an  axe  of  bronze  double-edged,  and 
with  a  goodly  handle  of  olive  wood  fastened  well.  Next 
she  gave  him  a  polished  adze,  and  she  led  the  way  to 
the  border  of  the  isle  where  tall  trees  grew,  alder  and 
popiar,  and  pine  that  reacheth  unto  heaven,  seasoned  long 
since  and  sere,  that  might  lightly  float  for  him.  Now  after 
she  had  shown  him  where  the  tall  trees  grew.  Calypso,  the 
fair  goddess,  departed  hqjneward.  And  he  set  to  cutting 
timber,  and  his  work  went  busily.  Twenty  trees  in  all  he 
felled,  and  then  trimmed  them  with  the  axe  of  bronze,  and 

G  a 


84  ODYSSEY  V,  245-277. 


deftly  smoothed  them,  and  over  them  made  straight  the  line. 
Meanwhile  Calypso,  the  fair  goddess,  brought  him  augers, 
so  he  bored  each  piece  and  jointed  them  together,  and  then 
made  all  fast  with  trenails  and  dowels.  Wide  as  is  the  floor 
of  a  broad  ship  of  burden,  which  some  men  well  skilled  in 
carpentry  may  trace  him  out,  of  such  beam  did  Odysseus 
fashion  his  broad  raft.  And  thereat  he  wrought,  and  set 
up  the  deckings,  fitting  them  to  the  close-set  uprights,  and 
finished  them  off  with  long  gunwales,  and  therein  he  set 
a  mast,  and  a  yard-arm  fitted  thereto,  and  moreover  he 
made  him  a  rudder  to  guide  the  craft.  And  he  fenced  it 
with  watded  osier  withies  from  stem  to  stern,  to  be  a  bul- 
wark against  the  wave,  and  piled  up  wood  to  back  them. 
\-  Meanwhile  Calypso,  the  fair  goddess,  brought  him  web  of 
V  I  cloth  to  make  him  sails;  and  these  too  he  fashioned  very 
(^^  ^j^  '  skilfully.  And  he  made  fast  therein  braces  and  halyards 
and  sheets,  and  at  last  he  pushed  the  raft  with  levers  down 
to  the  fair  salt  sea. 

It  was  the  fourth  day  when  he  had  accomplished  all. 
And,  lo,  on  the  fifth,  the  fair  Calypso  sent  him  on  his  way 
from  the  island,  when  she  had  bathed  him  and  clad  him  in 
fragrant  attire.  Moreover,  the  goddess  placed  on  board  the 
ship  two  skins,  one  of  dark  wine,  and  another,  a  great  one, 
of  water,  and  corn  too  in  a  wallet,  and  she  set  therein  a  store 
of  dainties  to  his  heart's  desire,  and  sent  forth  a  warm  and 
gentle  wind  to  blow.  And  goodly  Odysseus  rejoiced  as  he 
set  his  sails  to  the  breeze.  So  he  sate  and  cunningly  guided 
the  craft  with  the  helm,  nor  did  sleep  fall  upon  his  eyelids,  as 
he  viewed  the  Pleiads  and  Bootes,  that  setteth  late,  and  the 
Bear,  which  they  likewise  call  the  Wain,  which  turneth  ever 
in  one  place,  and  keepeth  watcjj  upon  Orion,  and  alone 
hath  no  part  in  the  baths  of  Ocean.  This  star.  Calypso, 
the  fair  goddess,  bade  him  to  keep  ever  on  the  left  "as  he 


ODVSSEV  V,  277-307.  S^ 


travei/'cd  the  deep.  Ten  days  and  seven  he  sailed  traversing 
the  deep,  and  on  the  eighteenth  day  appeared  the  shadowy 
hills  of  the  land  of  the  Phaeacians,  at  the  point  where  it  lay 
nearest  to  him ;  and  it  showed  like  a  shield  in  the  misty  deep.       .       .  . 

Now  the  lord,  the  shaker  of  the  earth,  on  his  way  from  \  T<>^^^  ^ 
the  Ethiopians  espied  him  afar  off  from  the  mountains 
of  the  Solymi :  even  thence  he  saw  Odysseus  as  he  sailed 
over  the  deep;  and  he  was  yet  more  angered  in  spirit,  and 
wagging  his  head  he  communed  with  his  own  heart.  *  Lo  I 
now,  it  must  be  that  the  gods  at  the  last  have  changed  their 
purpose  concerning  Odysseus,  while  I  was  away  among  the 
Ethiopians.  And  now  he  is  nigh  to  the  Phaeacian  land, 
where  it  is  ordained  that  he  escape  the  great  issues  of  the 
woe  which  hath  come  upon  him.  But,  methinks,  that  even 
yet  I  will  drive  him  far  enough  in  the  path  of  suffering.' 

With  that  he  gathered  the  clouds  and  troubled  the  waters 
of  the  deepj(  grasping  his  trident  in  his  hands ;  and  he  roused 
all  storms  of  all  manner  of  winds,  and  shrouded  in  clouds  the 
land  and  sea  :  and  down  sped  night  from  heaven.  The  East 
Wind  and  the  South  Wind  clashed,  and  the  stormy  West, 
and  the  North,  that  is  born  in  the  bright  air,  rolling  onward 
a  great  wave.  Then  were  the  knees  of  Odysseus  loosened 
and  his  heart  melted,  and  heavily  he  spake  to  his  own  great 
spirit:. 

*  Oh,  wretched  man  that  I  am  I  what  is  to  befal  me  at  the 
last  ?  I  fear  that  indeed  the  goddess  spake  all  things  truly, 
who  said  that  I  should  fill  up  the  measure  of  sorrow  on  the 
deep,  or  ever  I  came  to  mine  own  country;  and  lo,  all 
these  things  have  an  end.  In  such  wise  doth  Zeus  crown  the  Cu-f-'^^j 
wide  heaven  with  clouds,  and  hath  troubled  the  deep,  and 
the  blasts  rush  on  of  all  the  winds ;  yea,  now  is  utter  doom 
assured  me.  Thrice  blessed  those  Danaans,  yea,  four  times 
blessed,  who  perished  on  a  time  in  wide  Troy-land,  doing  a 


S6  ODYSSEY  V,  307-338. 

pleasure  to  the  sons  of  Atreus!  Would  to  God  that  I  too  had 
died,  and  met  my  fate  on  that  day  when  the  press  of  Trojans 
cast  their  bronze-shod  spears  upon  me,  fighting  for  the  body 
of  the  son  of  Peleus !  So  should  I  have  gotten  my  dues  of 
burial,  and  the  Achaeans  \vould  have  spread  my  fame ;  but 
now  it  is  my  fate  to  be  overtaken  by  a  pitiful  death/ 

Even  as  he  spake,  the  great  wave  smote  down  upon  him, 
driving  on  in  terrible  wise,  that  the  raft  reeled  again.  And 
far  therefrom  he  fell,  and  lost  the  helm  from  his  hand ;  and 
the  fierce  blast  of  the  jostling  winds  came  and  brake  his 
mast  in  the  midst,  and  sail  and  yard-arm  fell  afar  into  the 
deep.  Long  time  the  water  kept  him  under,  nor  could  he 
speedily  rise  from  beneath  the  rush  of  the  mighty  wave  :  for 
the  garments  hung  heavy  which  fair  Calypso  gave  him. 
But  late  and  at  length  he  came  up,  and  spat  forth  from  his 
mouth  the  bitter  salt  water,  which  ran  down  in  streams  from 
his  head.  Yet  even  so  forgat  he  not  his  raft,  for  all  his 
wretched  plight,  but  made  a  spring  after  it  in  the  waves, 
and  clutched  it  to  him,  and  sat  in  the  midst  thereof,  avoid- 
ing the  issues  of  death ;  and  the  great  wave  swept  it  hither 
and  thither  along  the  stream.  And  as  the  North  Wind  in  the 
harvest  tide  sweeps  the  thistle-down  along  the  plain,  and 
close  the  tufts  cling  each  to  other,  even  so  the  winds  bare  the 
raft  hither  and  thither  along  the  main.  Now  the  South  would 
toss  it  to  the  North  to  carry,  and  now  again  the  East  would 
yield  it  to  the  West  to  chase. 

_  But  the  daughter  of  Cadmus  marked  him,  Ino  of  the  fair 
ankles,  Leucothea,  who  in  time  past  was  a  maiden  of  mortal 
speech,  but  now  in  the  depths  of  the  salt  sea  she  had  gotten 
her  share  of  worship  from  the  gods.  She  took  pity  on 
Odysseus  in  his  wandering  and  travail,  and  she  rose,  like 
a  sea-gull  on  the  wing,  from  the  depth  of  the  mere,  and  sat 
upon  the  well-bound  raft  and  spake  saying :  _ 


ODYSSEY  V,  339-367.  87 

*  Hapless  one,  wherefore  was  Poseidon^  shaker  of  the  earth,    j 

so  wondrous  wroth  with  thee,  seeing  that  he  soweth  for  thee  \  71/ 
the  seeds  of  many  evils  ?     Yet  shall  he  not  make  a  full  end 
of  thee,  for  all  his  desire.     But  do  even  as  I  tell  thee,  and 
methinks  thou  art  not  witless.     Cast  off  these  garments,  and 
leave  the  raft  to  drift  before  the  winds,  but  do  thou  swim 
with  thine  hands  and  strive  to  win  a  footing  on  the  coast  * 
of  the  Phaeacians,  where  it  is  decreed  that  thou  escape.  ^      ^ 
Here,  take  this  veil  immortal  and  wind  it  about  thy  breast ;   f    ^CJ 
so  is  there  no  fear  that  thou  suffer  aught  or  perish.     But   V 
when  thou  hast  laid  hoH  of  the  mainland  with  thy  hands,     ) 
loose  it  from  off  thee  and  cast  it  into  the  wine-dark  deep  far 
from  the  land,  and  thyself  turn  away.* 

With  that  the  goddess  gave  the  veil,  and  for  her  part  dived 
back  into  the  heaving  deep,  like  a  sea-gull  :  and  the  dark 
wave  closed  over  her.  But  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus 
pondered,  and  heavily  he  spake  to  his  own  brave  spirit : 

*  Ah,  woe  is  me  !  Can  it  be  that  some  one  of  the  im- 
mortals is  weaving  a  new  snare  for  me,  that  she  bids  me 
quit  my  raft  ?  Nay  verily,  I  will  not  yet  obey,  for  I  had 
sight  of  the  shore  yet  a  long  way  off,  where  she  told  me 
that  I  might  e.scape.  I  am  resolved  what  I  will  do ; — 
and  methinks  on  this  wise  it  is  best.  So  long  as  the 
timbers  abide  in  the  dowels,  so  long  will  I  endure  steadfast 
in  affliction,  but  so  soon  as  the  wave  hath  shattered  my 
raft  asunder,  I  will  swim,  for  meanwhile  no  better  counsel 
may  be.' 

While  yet  he  pondered  these  things  'in  his  heart  and  soul,      , 
Poseidon,  shaker  of  the  earth,  stirred  against  him  a  great 
wave,  terrible  and  grievous,  and  vaulted  from  the  crest,  and 

*  Lit.  Strive  after  an  arrival  on  the  land,  etc.  voaros  originally  meant 
going,  journeying,  and  had  no  idea  of  return.  The  earlier  use  survives 
here,  and  in  Soph,  Philoct.  43,  Eur,  Iph.  Aul.  1261.  Similarly,  perhaps, 
vooTilv  in  Odyssey  iv.  619,  xv.  119,  and  vUadai  frequently. 


88  ODYSSEY  V,  367-400. 

therewith  smote  him.  And  as  when  a  great  tempestuous  wind 
tosseth  a  heap  of  parched  husks,  and  scatters  them  this  way 
and  that,  even  so  did  the  wave  scatter  the  long  beam.s  of  the 
raft.  But  Odysseus  bestrode  a  single  beam,  as  one  rideth  on 
a  courser,  and  stripl  him  of  the  garments  which  fair  Calypso 
f.ave  him.  And  presently  he  wound  the  veil  beneath  his 
?reast,  and  fell  prone  into  the  sea,  outstretching  his  hands  as 
jne  eager  to  swim.  And  the  lord,  the  shaker  of  the  earth, 
saw  him  and  wagged  his  head,  and  communed  with  his  own 
soul.  'Even  so,  after  all  thy  suflferings,  go  wandering  over 
the  deep,  till  thou  shalt  come  among  a  people,  the  fosterlings 
of  Zeus.  Yet  for  all  that  I  deem  not  that  thou  shalt  think 
thyself  too  lightly  afflicted.'  Therewith  he  lashed  his  steeds 
of  the  flowing  manes,  and  came  to  Aegae,  where  is  his 
lordly  home. 

But  Athene,  daughter  of  Zeus,  turned  to  new  thoughts. 
Behold,  she  bound  up  the  courses  of  the  other  winds,  and 
charged  them  all  to  cease  and  be  still;  but  she  roused  the 
swift  North  and  brake  the  waves  before  him,  that  so  Odysseus, 
of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  might  mingle  with  the  Phaeacians,  lovers 
of  the  oar,  avoiding  deatli  and  the  fates. 

So  for  two  nights  and  two  days  he  was  wandering  in  the 
swell  of  the  sea,  and  much  his  heart  boded  of  death.  But 
when  at  last  the  fair-tressed  Dawn  brought  the  full  light  of 
the  third  day,  thereafter  the  breeze  fell,  and  lo,  there  was  a 
breathless  calm,  and  with  a  quick  glance  ahead,  (he  being 
upborne  on  a  great  wave,)  he  saw  the  land  very  near.  And 
even  as  when  most  welcome  to  his  children  is  the  sight  of  a 
father's  life,  who  lies  in  sickness  and  strong  pains  long  wasting 
away,  some  angry  god  assailing  him ;  and  to  their  delight  the 
gods  have  loosed  him  from  his  trouble;  so  welcome  to  Odys- 
seus showed  land  and  wood ;  and  he  swam  onward  being  eager 
to  set  foot  on  the  strand.     But  when  he  was  within  earshot  of 


ODYSSEY  V,  401-432.  89 

the  shore,  and  heard  now  the  thunder  of  the  sea  against  the 
reefs — for  the  great  wave  crashed  against  the  dry  land 
belching  in  terrible  wise,  and  all  was  covered  with  foam  of 
the  sea, — for  there  were  no  harbours  for  ships  nor  shelters, 
but  jutting  headlands  and  reefs  and  cliffs;  then  at  last  the 
knees  of  Odysseus  were  loosened  and  his  heart  melted,  and 
in  heaviness  he  spake  to  his  own  brave  spirit : 

*  Ah  me !  now  that  beyond  all  hope  Zeus  hath  given  me 
eight  of  land,  and  withal  I  have  cloven  my  way  through  this 
gulf  of  the  sea,  here  there  is  no  place  to  land  on  from  out  of 
the  grey  water.  For  without  are  sharp  crags,  and  round  them 
the  wave  roars  surging,  and  sheer  the  smooth  rock  rises,  and 
the  sea  is  deep  thereby,  so  that  in  no  wise  may  I  find  firm 
foothold  and  escape  my  bane,  for  as  I  fain  would  go  ashore, 
the  great  wave  may  haply  snatch  and  dash  me  on  the  jagged 
rock — and  a  wretched  endeavour  that  would  be.  But  if  I 
swim  yet  further  along  the  coast  to  find,  if  I  may,  spits  that 
take  the  waves  aslant  and  havens  of  the  sea,  I  fear  lest  the 
storm-winds  catch  me  again  and  bear  me  over  the  teeming 
deep,  making  heavy  moan  ;  or  else  some  god  may  even  send 
forth  against  me  a  monster  from  out  of  the  shore  water ; 
and  many  such  pastureth  the  renowned  Amphitrite.  For  I 
know  how  wroth  against  me  hath  been  the  great  Shaker  of 
the  Earth.' 

Whilst  yet  he  pondered  these  things  in  his  heart  and 
mind,  a  great  wave  bore  him  to  the  rugged  shore.  There 
would  he  have  been  stript  of  his  skin  and  all  his  bones  been 
broken,  but  that  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  put  a 
thought  into  his  heart.  He  rushed  in,  and  with  both  his 
hands  clutched  the  rock,  whereto  he  clung  till  the  great 
wave  went  by.  So  he  escaped  that  peril,  but  again  with 
backward  wash  it  leapt  on  him  and  smote  him  and  cast  him 
forth  into  the  deep.     And  as  when  the  cuttlefish  is  dragged 


90  ODYSSEY  V,  4^2,-46z. 

forth  from  his  chamber,  the  many  pebbles  clinging  to  his 
suckers,  even  so  was  the  skin  stript  from  his  strong  hand 
against  the  rocks,  and  the  great  wave  closed  over  him. 
There  of  a  truth  would  luckless  Odysseus  have  perished 
beyond  that  which  was  ordained,  had  not  grey-eyed  Athene 
given  him  sure  counsel.  He  rose  from  the  line  of  the 
breakers  that  belch  upon  the  shore,  and  swam  outside, 
ever  looking  landwards,  to  find,  if  he  might,  spits  that  take 
the  waves  aslant,  and  havens  of  the  sea.  But  when  he  came 
in  his  swimming  over  against  the  mouth  of  a  fair-flowing 
river,  whereby  the  place  seemed  best  in  his  eyes,  smooth 
of  rocks,  and  withal  there  was  a  covert  from  the  wind, 
Odysseus  felt  the  river  running,  and  prayed  to  him  in  his 
heart : 

'  Hear  me,  O  king,  whosoever  thou  art ;  unto  thee  am  I 
come,  as  to  one  to  whom  prayer  is  made,  while  I  flee  the 
rebukes  of  Poseidon  from  the  deep.  Yea,  reverend  even  to 
the  deathless  gods  is  that  man  who  comes  as  a  wanderer, 
even  as  I  now  have  come  to  thy  stream  and  to  thy  knees 
after  much  travail.  Nay  pity  me,  O  king ;  for  I  avow  myself 
thy  suppliant.' 

So  spake  he,  and  the  god  straightway  stayed  his  stream 
and  withheld  his  waves,  and  made  the  water  smooth  before 
him,  and  brought  him  safely  to  the  mouths  of  the  river.  And 
his  knees  bowed  and  his  stout  hands  fell,  for  his  heart  was 
.  broken  by  the  brine.  And  his  flesh  was  all  swollen  and 
a  great  stream  of  sea  water  gushed  up  through  his  mouth 
and  nostrils.  So  he  lay  without  breath  or  speech,  swooning, 
such  terrible  weariness  came  upon  him.  But  when  now  his 
breath  returned  and  his  spirit  came  to  him  again,  he  loosed 
from  off  him  the  veil  of  the  goddess,  and  let  it  fall  into  the 
salt  flowing  river.  And  the  great  wave  bare  it  back  down 
the  stream,  and  lightly  Ino  caught  it  in  her  hands.     Then 


ODYSSEY  V,  462-493.  91 

Odysseus  turned  from  the  river,  and  fell  back  in  the  reeds, 
and  kissed  earth,  the  grain-giver,  and  heavily  he  spake  unto 
his  own  brave  spirit: 

*Ah,  woe  is  me!  what  is  to  betide  me?  what  shall 
happen  unto  me  at  the  last  ?  If  I  watch  in  the  river  bed 
all  through  the  careful  night,  I  fear  that  the  bitter  frost  and 
fresh  dew  ^may  overcome  me,  and  I  breathe  forth  my  life  for 
faintness,  for  the  river  breeze  blows  cold  betimes  in  the 
morning.  But  if  I  climb  the  hill-side  up  to  the  shady  wood, 
and  there  take  rest  in  the  thickets,  though  perchance  the 
cold  and  weariness  leave  hold  of  me,  and  sweet  sleep 
may  come  over  me,  I  fear  lest  of  wild  beasts  I  become 
the  spoil  and  prey.' 

So  as  he  thought  thereon  this  seemed  to  him  the  better  way. 
He  went  up  to  the  wood,  and  found  it  nigh  the  water  in  a 
place  of  wide  prospect.  So  he  crept  beneath  twin  bushes  that 
grew  from  one  stem,  both  olive  trees,  one  of  them  wild  olive. 
Through  these  the  force  of  the  wet  winds  blew  never,  neither 
did  the  bright  sun  light  on  it  with  his  rays,  nor  could  the  rain 
pierce  through,  so  close  were  they  twined  either  to  other; 
and  thereunder  crept  Odysseus,  and  anon  he  heaped  together 
with  his  hands  a  broad  couch ;  for  of  fallen  leaves  there  was 
great  plenty,  enough  to  cover  two  or  three  men  in  winter 
time,  however  hard  the  weather.  And  the  steadfast  goodly 
Odysseus  beheld  it  and  rejoiced,  and  he  laid  him  in  the 
midst  thereof  and  flung  over  him, the  fallen  leaves.  And  as 
when  a  man  hath  hidden  away  a  brand  in  the  black  embers 
at  an  upland  farm,  one  that  hath  no  neighbours  nigh,  and  so 
saveth  the  seed  of  fire,  that  he  may  not  have  to  seek  a  light 
otherwhere,  even  so  did  Odysseus  cover  him  with  the  leaves. 
And  Athene  shed  sleep  upon  his  eyes,  that  so  it  might 
soon  release  him  from  his  weary  travail,  overshadowing  his 
eyelids. 


BOOK   VI. 


Nausicaa,  going  to  a  river  near  that  place  to  wash  the  clothes  of  her  father, 
mother,  and  brethren,  while  the  clothes  were  drying  played  with  her  maids 
at  ball ;  and  Odysseus  coming  forth  is  fed  and  clothed,  and  led  on  his 
way  to  the  house  of  her  father,  King  Alcinous. 

So  there  he  lay  asleep,  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus,  for-/-  <*- 
done  with  toil  and  drowsiness.     Meanwhile  Athene  went  to  irt*^ 
the  land  and  the  city  of  the  Phaeacians,  who  of  old,  upon  a  ^'^^ 
time,  dwelt  in  spacious  Hypereia;  near  the  Cyclopes  they 
dwelt,  men  exceeding  proud,  who  harried  them  continually,  (rt-^ 
being  mightier  than  they.     Thence  the  godlike  Nausithous'^^^^ 
made  them  depart,  and  he  carried  them  away,  and  planted  i^^^^' 
them  in  Scheria,  far  off  from  men  that  live  by  bread.     And         1 
he  drew  a  wall  around  the  town,  and  builded  houses  and 
made  temples  for  the  gods  and  meted  out  the  fields.     How- 
beit  ere  this  had  he  been  stricken  by  fate,  and  had  gone 
down  to  the  house  of  Hades,  and  now  Alcinous  was  reigning, 
with  wisdom  granted  by  the  gods.     To  his  house  went  the 
goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  devising  a  return  for  the  great- 
hearted  Odysseus.     She   betook   her    to   the   rich-wrought 
bower,  wherein  was  sleeping  a  maiden  like  to  the  gods  in 
form  and  comeliness,  Nausicaa,  the  daughter  of  Alcinous, 
high  of  heart.     Beside  her  on  either  hand  of  the  pillars  of 
the  door  were  two  handmaids,  dowered  with   beauty  from 
the  Graces,  and  the  shining  doors  were  shut. 

But  the  goddess,  fleet  as  the  breath  of  the  wind,  swept 
towards  the  couch  of  the  maiden,  and  stood  above  her  head, 


^^■ 


ODYSSEY  VI,  21-49.  93 

and  spake  to  her  in  the  semblance  of  the  daughter  of  a  / 

famous  seafarer,  Dynias,  a  girl  of  hke  age  with  Nausicaa,  ^^^^.^  ^^^^ 
who  had  found  grace  in  her  sight.  In  her  shape  the  grey-  ^^.^^^^^  |^ 
eyed  Athene  spake  to  the  princess,  saying : 

*  Nausicaa,  how  hath  thy  mother  so  heedless  a  maiden  to 
her  daughter?  Lo,  thou  hast  shining  raiment  that  Hes  by 
thee  uncared  for,  and  thy  marriage-day  is  near  at  hand, 
when  thou  thyself  must  needs  go  beautifully  clad,  and  have 
garments  to  give  to  them  who  shall  lead  thee  to  the  house  of 
the  bridegroom !  And,  behold,  these  are  the  things  whence 
a  good  report  goes  abroad  among  men,  wherein  a  father 
and  lady  mother  take  delight.  But  come,  let  us  arise  and 
go  a-washing  with  the  breaking  of  the  day,  and  I  will  follow 
with  thee  to  be  thy  mate  in  the  toil,  that  without  delay  thou 
mayst  get  thee  ready,  since  truly  thou  art  not  long  to  be 
a  maiden.  Lo,  already  they  are  wooing  thee,  the  noblest 
youths  of  all  the  Phaeacians,  among  that  people  whence  thou 
thyself  dost  draw  thy  lineage.  So  come,  beseech  thy  noble 
father  betimes  in  the  morning  to  furnish  thee  with  mules  and 
a  wain  to  carry  the  men's  raiment,. and  the  robes,  and  the 
shining  coverlets.  Yea  and  for  thyself  it  is  seemlier  far  to 
go  thus  than  on  foot,  for  the  places  where  we  must  wash  are 
a  great  way  off  the  town.' 

So  spake  the  grey-eyed  Athene,  and  departed  to  Olympus, 
where,  as  they  say,  is  the  seat  of  the  gods  that  standeth  fast 
for  ever.  Not  by  winds  is  it  shaken,  nor  ever  wet  with  rain, 
nor  doth  the  snow  come  nigh  thereto,  but  most  clear  air  is 
spread  about  it  cloudless,  and  the  white  light  floats  over  it.  ! 
Therein  the  blessed  gods  are  glad  for  all  their  days,  and 
thither  Athene  went  when  she  had  shown  forth  all  to  the 
maiden. 

Anon  came  the  throned  Dawn,  and  awakened  Nausicaa.     O    I 
of   the    fair    robes,    who    straightway    marvelled   on    the"  ^ 


94  ODYSSEY  VI,  50-80. 

dream,  and  went  through  the  halls  to  tell  her  parents,  her 
father  dear  and  her  mother.  And  she  found  them  within, 
her  mother  sitting  by  the  hearth  with  the  women  her  hand- 
maids, spinning  yarn  of  sea-purple  stain,  but  her  father  she  met 
as  he  was  going  forth  to  the  renowned  kings  in  their  council, 
whither  the  noble  Phaeacians  called  him.  Standing  close  by 
her  dear  father  she  spake,  saying :  '  Father,  dear,  couldst 
thou  not  lend  me  a  high  waggon  with  strong  wheels,  that 
I  may  take  the  goodly  raiment  to  the  river  to  wash,  so  much 
as  I  have  lying  soiled  ?  Yea  and  it  is  seemly  that  thou  thy- 
self, when  thou  art  with  the  princes  in  council,  should  have 
fresh  raiment  to  wear.  Also,  there  are  five  dear  sons  of  thine 
in  the  halls,  two  married,  but  three  are  lusty  bachelors,  and 
these  are  always  eager  for  new-washen  garments  wherein  to 
go  to  the  dances;  for  all  these  things  have  I  taken 
thought.' 

This  she  said,  because  she  was  ashamed  to  speak  of  glad 
marriage  to  her  father;  but  he  saw  all  and  answered, 
saying : 

*  Neither  the  mules  ftor  aught  else  do  I  grudge  thee,  my 
child.  Go  thy  ways,  and  the  thralls  shall  get  thee  ready 
a  high  waggon  with  good  wheels,  and  fitted  with  an  upper 
frame.' 

Therewith  he  called  to  his  men,  and  they  gave  ear,  and 
without  the  palace  they  made  ready  the  smooth-running 
mule-wain,  and  led  the  mules  beneath  the  yoke,  and  harnessed 
them  under  the  car,  while  the  maiden  brought  forth  from 
her  bower  the  shining  raiment.  This  she  stored  in  the 
polished  car,  and  her  mother  filled  a  basket  with  all  manner 
of  food  to  the  heart's  desire,  dainties  too  she  set  therein,  and 
she  poured  wine  into  a  goat-skin  bottle,  while  Nausicaa 
climbed  into  the  wain.  And  her  mother  gave  her  soft  olive 
oil  also  in  a  golden  cruse,  that  she  and  her  maidens  might 


ODYSSEY  VI,  80-109.  95 

anoint  themselves  after  the  bath.  Then  Nausicaa  took  the 
whip  and  the  shining  reins,  and  touched  the  mules  to  start 
them;  then  there  was  a  clatter  of  hoofs,  and  on  they  strained 
without  flagging,  with  their  load  of  the  raiment  and  the 
maiden.  Not  alone  did  she  go,  for  her  attendants  followed 
with  her. 

Now  when  they  were  come  to  the  beautiful  stream  of  the 
river,  where  truly  were  the  unfailing  cisterns,  and  bright  water 
welled  up  free  from  beneath,  and  flowed  past,  enough  to 
wash  the  foulest  garments  clean,  there  the  girls  unharnessed 
the  mules  from  under  the  chariot,  and  turning  them  loose 
they  drove  them  along  the  banks  of  the  eddying  river  to  graze 
on  the  honey-sweet  clover.  Then  they  took  the  garments 
from  the  wain,  in  their  hands,  and  bore  them  to  the  black 
water,  and  briskly  trod  them  down  in  the  trenches,  in  busy 
rivalry.  Now  when  they  -had  washed  and  cleansed  all  the 
stains,  they  spread  all  out  in  order  along  the  shore  of  the^ 
deep,  even  where  the  sea,  in  beating  on  the  coast,  washed  \  * 
the  pebbles  clean.  Then  having  bathed  and  anointed  thenp^  '/''- 
well  with  olive  oil,  they  took  their  mid-day  meal  on  the 
river's  banks,  waiting  till  the  clothes  should  dry  in  the  bright- 
ness of  the  sun.  Anon,  when  they  were  satisfied  with  food, 
the  maidens  and  the  princess,  they  fell  to  playing  at  ball, 
casting  away  their  tires,  and  among  them  Nausicaa  of  the 
white  arms  began  the  song^^  And  even  as  Artemis, 
the  archer,  moveth  down  the  mountain,  either  along   the  /-— 

ridges  of  lofty  Taygetus  or  Erymanthus,  taking  her  pastime  ^""^^^^ 
in  the  chase  of  boars  and  swift  deer,  and  with  her  the  wild  Q"  ^^^-^ 
wood-nymphs  disport  them,  the  daughters  of  Zeus,  lord  of  x^  'Ltulm^i 
the  aegis,  and  Leto  is  glad  at  heart,  while  high  over  all  she  ?Cva  o-w*^ 
rears  her  head  and  brows,  and  easily  may  she  be  known,  —  //  {ZvU^iua 
but  all  are  fair ;  even  so  the  girl  unwed  outshone  her  maiden  f 
company.  ^ 


r 


96  ODYSSEY  VI,  110-141. 

But  when  now  she  was  about  going  homewards,  after 
yoking  the  mules  and  folding  up  the  goodly  raiment, 
then  grey-eyed  Athene  turned  to  other  thoughts,  that  so 
Odysseus  might  awake,  and  see  the  lovely  maiden,  who 
should  be  his  guide  to  the  city  of  the  Phaeacian  men.  So 
then  the  princess  threw  the  ball  at  one  of  her  company ;  she  _ 
missed  the  girl,  and  cast  the  ball  into  the  deep  eddying 
current,  whereat  they  all  raised  a  piercing  cry.  Then  the 
goodly  Odysseus  awoke  and  sat  up,  pondering  in  his  heart 
and  spirit:" 

*  Woe  is  me !  to  what  men's  land  am  I  come  now  ?  say, 
are  they  froward,  and  wild,  and  unjust,  or  are  they  hospitable, 
and  of  God-fearing  mind  ?  How  shrill  a  cry  of  maidens  rings 
round  me,  of  the  nymphs  that  hold  the  steep  hill-tops,  and 
the  river-springs,  and  the  grassy  water  meadows !  It  must 
be,  methinks,  that  I  am  near  men  of  human  speech.  Go  to, 
I  myself  will  make  trial  and  see/ 

Therewith  the  goodly  Odysseus  crept  out  from  under  the 
coppice,  having  broken  with  his  strong  hand  a  leafy  bough 
from  the  thick  wood,  to  hold  athwart  his  body,  that  it  might 
hide  his  nakedness  withal.  And  forth  he  sallied  like  a  lion 
mountain-bred,  trusting  in  his  strength,  who  fares  out  blown 
and  rained  upon,  with  flaming  eyes ;  amid  the  kine  he 
goes  or  amid  the  sheep  or  in  the  track  of  the  wild  deer ;  yea, 
his  belly  bids  him  to  make  assay  upon  the  flocks,  even  within 
a  close-penned  fold.  Even  so  Odysseus  was  fain  to  draw  nigh 
to  the  fair-tressed  maidens,  aU  naked  as  he  was,  such  need 
had  come  upon  him.  But  he  was  terrible  in  their  eyes, 
being  marred  with  the  salt  sea  foam,  and  they  fled  cowering 
here  and  there  about  the  jutting  spits  of  shore.  And  the 
daughter  of  Alcinous  alone  stood  firm,  for  Athene  gave  her 
courage  of  heart,  and  took  all  trembling  from  her  limbs. 
So  she  halted  and  stood  over  against  him,  and  Odysseus 


ODYSSEY  VI,  142-172.  97 

considered  whether  he  should  clasp  the  knees  of  the  lovely 
maiden,  and  so  make  his  prayer,  or  should  stand  as  he  was, 
apart,  and  beseech  her  with  smooth  words,  if  haply  she 
might  show  him  the  town,  and  give  him  raiment.  And  as 
he  thought  within  himself,  it  seemed  better  to  stand  apart, 
and  beseech  her  with  smooth  words,  lest  the  maiden  should 
be  angered  with  him  if  he  touched  her  knees :  so  straightway 
he  spake  a  sweet  and  cunning  word: 

*  I  supplicate  thee,  O  queen,  whether  thou  art  a  goddess  or 
a  mortal !  If  indeed  thou  art  a  goddess  of  them  that  keep 
the  wide  heaven ;  to  Artemis,  then,  the  daughter  of  great 
Zeus,  I  mainly  liken  thee,  for  beauty  and  stature  and  shape- 
liness. But  if  thou  art  one  of  the  daughters  of  men  who 
dwell  on  earth,  thrice  blessed  are  thy  father  and  thy  lady 
mother,  and  thrice  blessed  thy  brethren.  Surely  their  souls 
ever  glow  with  gladness  for  thy  sake,  each  time  they  see  thee 
entering  the  dance,  so  fair  a  flower  of  maidens.  But  he  is  of 
heart  the  most  blessed  beyond  all  other  who  shall  prevail 
with  gifts  of  wooing,  and  lead  thee  to  his  home.  Never  have 
mine  eyes  beheld  such  an  one  among  mortals,  neither  man 
nor  woman ;  great  awe  comes  upon  me  as  I  look  on  thee. 
Yet  in  Delos  once  I  saw  as  goodly  a  thing  :  a  young  sapling 
of  a  palm  tree  springing  by  the  altar  of  Apollo.  For  thither 
too  I  went,  and  much  people  with  me,  on  that  path  where 
my  sore  troubles  were  to  be.  Yea,  and  when  I  looked  there- 
upon, long  time  I  marvelled  in  spirit, — for  never  grew  there 
yet  so  goodly  a  shoot  from  ground, — even  in  such  wise  as 
I  wonder  at  thee,  lady,  and  am  astonied  and  do  greatly 
fear  to  touch  thy  knees,  though  grievous  sorrow  is  upon  me. 
Yesterday,  on  the  twentieth  day,  I  escaped  from  the  wine- 
dark  deep,  but  all  that  time  continually  the  wave  bare  me, 
and  the  vehement  winds  drave,  from  the  isle  Ogygia.  And 
now  some  god  has  cast  me  on  this  shore^  that  here  too, 

H 


kj 


98  ODYSSEY  VI,   173-205. 

Si  1    methinks,  some  evil  may  betide  me;  for  I  trow  not  that  trouble 


will  cease ;  the  gods  ere  that  time  will  yet  bring  many  a  thing 
to  pass.  But,  queen,  have  pity  on  me,  for  after  many  trials  and 
sore  to  thee  first  of  all  am  I  come,  and  of  the  other  folk,  who 
hold  this  city  and  land,  I  know  no  man.  Nay  show  me  the 
town,  give  me  an  old  garment  to  cast  about  me,  if  thou 
hadst,  when  thou  camest  here,  any  wrap  for  the  linen.  And 
may  the  gods  grant  thee  all  thy  heart's  desire :  a  husband 
and  a  home,  and  a  mind  at  one  with  his  may  they  give — 
a  good  gift,  for  there  is  nothing  mightier  and  nobler  than 
when  man  and  wife  are  of  one  heart  and  mind  in  a  house, 
a  grief  to  their  foes,  and  to  their  friends  great  joy,  but  their 
own  hearts  know  it  best.* 

Then  Nausicaa  of  the  white  arms  answered  him,  and 
said :  *  Stranger,  forasmuch  as  thou  seemest  no  evil  man  nor 
foolish — and  it  is  Olympian  Zeus  himself  that  giveth  weal  to 
men,  to  the  good  and  to  the  evil,  to  each  one  as  he  will,  and 
this  thy  lot  doubtless  is  of  him,  and  so  thou  must  in  anywise 
endure  it :— and  now,  since  thou  hast  come  to  our  city  and 
our  land,  thou  shalt  not  lack  raiment,  nor  aught  else  that  is 
the  due  of  a  hapless  suppliant,  when  he  has  met  them  who 
can  befriend  him.  And  I  will  show  thee  the  town,  and 
name  the  name  of  the  people.  The  Phaeacians  hold  this 
city  and  land,  and  I  am  the  daughter  of  Alcinous,  great  of 
heart,  on  whom  all  the  might  and  force  of  the  Phaeacians 
depend.' 

Thus  she  spake,  and  called  to  her  maidens  of  the  fair 
tresses :  *  Halt,  my  maidens,  whither  flee  ye  at  the  sight  of  a 
man?  Ye  surely  do  not  take  him  for  an  enemy?  That 
mortal  breathes  not,  and  never  will  be  born,  who  shall  come 
with  war  to  the  land  of  the  Phaeacians,  for  they  are  very 
dear  to  the  gods.  Far  apart  we  live  in  the  wash  of  the 
waves,  the  outermost  of  men,  and  no  other  mortals  are  con- 


ODVSSEV  VI,  205-237.  99 

versant  with  us.  Nay,  but  this  man  is  some  helpless  one 
come  hither  in  his  wanderings,  whom  now  we  must  kindly 
entreat,  for  all  strangers  and  beggars  are  from  Zeus,  and  a 
little  gift  is  dear.  So,  my  maidens,  give  the  stranger  meat 
and  drink,  and  bathe  him  in  the  river,  where  withal  is  a 
shelter  from  the  winds/ 

So  she  spake,  but  they  had  halted  and  called  each  to  the 
other,  and  they  brought  Odysseus  to  the  sheltered  place,  and 
made  him  sit  down,  as  Nausicaa  bade  them,  the  daughter  of 
Alcinous,  high  of  heart.  Beside  him  they  laid  a  mantle,  and 
a  doublet  for  raiment,  and  gave  him  soft  olive  oil  in  the 
golden  cruse,  and  bade  him. wash  in  the  streams  of  the  river. 
Then  goodly  Odysseus  spake  among  the  maidens,  saying : 
*  I  pray  you  stand  thus  apart,  while  I  myself  wash  the  brine 
from  my  shoulders,  and  anoint  me  with  olive  oil,  for  truly 
oil  is  long  a  stranger  to  my  skin.     But  in  your  sight  I  will 


not  bathe,  for  I  am  ashamed  to  make  me  naked  in  the  com- 
pany of  fair-tressed  maidens.' 

Then  they  went  apart  and  told  all  to  their  lady.  But  with 
the  river  water  the  goodly  Odysseus  washed  from  his  skin 
the  salt  scurf  that  covered  his  back  and  broad  shoulders,  and 
from  his  head  he  wiped  the  crusted  brine  of  the  barren  sea. 
But  when  he  had  washed  his  whole  body,  and  anointed  him 
with  olive  oil,  and  had  clad  himself  in  the  raiment  that  the  un- 
wedded  maiden  gave  him,  then  Athene,  the  daughter  of  Zeus, 
made  him  greater  and  more  mighty  to  behold,  and  from  his 
head  caused  deep  curling  locks  to  flow,  like  the  hyacinth 
flower.  And  as  when  some  skilful  man  overlays  gold  upon 
silver — one  that  Hephaestus  and  Pallas  Athene  have  taught^^  '>s^ 
all  manner  of  craft,  and  full  of  grace  is  his  handiwork — even  / 
so  did  Athene  shed  grace  about  his  head  and  shoulders. 

Then  to  the  shore  of  the  sea  went  Odysseus  apart,  and 
sat  down,  glowing  in  beauty  and  grace,  and  the  princess 

H    2 


100  ODYSSEY  V/,  238-268. 

marvelled  at  him,  and  spake  among  her  fair-tressed  maidens, 
saying : 

'Listen,  my  white- armed  maidens,  and  I  will  say  some- 
what. Not  without  the  will  of  all  the  gods  who  hold 
Olympus  hath  this  man  come  among  the  godlike  Phaeacians. 
Erewhile  he  seemed  to  me  uncomely,  but  now  he  is  like  the 
gods  that  keep  the  wide  heaven.  Would  that  such  an  one 
might  be  called  my  husband,  dwelling  here,  and  that  it  might 
please  him  here  to  abide !  But  come,  my  maidens,  give  the 
stranger  meat  and  drink.' 

Thus  she  spake,  and  they  gave  ready  ear  and  hearkened, 
and  set  beside  Odysseus  meat  and  drink,  and  the  steadfast 
goodly  Odysseus  did  eat  and  drink  eagerly,  for  it  was  long 
since  he  had  tasted  food. 

Now  Nausicaa  of  the  white  arms  had  another  thought. 
She  folded  the  raiment  and  stored  it  in  the  goodly  wain,  and 
yoked  the  mules  strong  of  hoof,  and  herself  climbed  into  the 
car.  Then  she  called  on  Odysseus,  and  spake  and  hailed 
him :  *  Up  now,  stranger,  and  rouse  thee  to  go  to  the  city, 
that  I  may  convey  thee  to  the  house  of  my  wise  father, 
where,  I  promise  thee,  thou  shalt  get  knowledge  of  all  the 
noblest  of  the  Phaeacians.  But  do  thou  even  as  I  tell  thee, 
and  thou  seemest  a  discreet  man  enough.  So  long  as  we 
are  passing  along  the  fields  and  farms  of  men,  do  thou  fare 
quickly  with  the  maidens  behind  the  mules  and  the  chariot, 
and  I  will  lead  the  way.  But  when  we  set  foot  within  the  city, — 
whereby  goes  a  high  wall  with  towers,  and  there  is  a  fair 
haven  on  either  side  of  the  tovm,  and  narrow  is  the  entrance, 
and  curved  ships  are  drawn  up  on  either  hand  of  the  mole, 
for  all  the  folk  have  stations  for  their  vessels,  each  man  one 
for  himself.  And  there  is  the  place  of  assembly  about  the 
goodly  temple  of  Poseidon,  furnished  with  heavy  stones,  deep 
bedded  in  the  earth.     There  men  look  to  the  gear  of  the 


ODYSSEY  VI,  269-; 361. \   \     \  \Yy>ipf.\. 


black  ships,  hawsers  and  sails,  and  there  they  fine  down  the 
oars.  For  the  Phaeacians  care  not  for  bow  nor  quiver,  but 
for  masts,  and  oars  of  ships,  and  gallant  barques,  wherein 
rejoicing  they  cross  the  grey  sea.  Their  ungracious  speech 
it  is  that  I  would  avoid,  lest  some  man  afterward  rebuke  me, 
and  there  are  but  too  many  insolent  folk  among  the  people. 
And  some  one  of  the  baser  sort  might  meet  me  and  say : 
**  Who  is  this  that  goes  with  Nausicaa,  this  tall  and  goodly 
stranger?  Where  found  she  him?  Her  husband  he  will 
be,  her  very  own.  Either  she  has  taken  in  some  ship- 
wrecked wanderer  of  strange  men, — for  no  men  dwell  near 
us ;  or  some  god  has  come  in  answer  to  her  instant  prayer ; 
from  heaven  has  he  descended,  and  will  have  her  to  wife  for 
evermore.  Better  so,  if  herself  she  has  ranged  abroad  and 
found  a  lord  from  a  strange  land,  for  verily  she  holds  in  no 
regard  the  Phaeacians  here  in  this  country,  the  many  men  and 
noble  who  are  her  wooers."  So  will  they  speak,  and  this  would 
turn  to  my  reproach.  Yea,  and  I  myself  would  think  it  blame 
of  another  maiden  who  did  such  things  in  despite  of  her 
friends,  her  father  and  mother  being  still  aUve,  and  was  con- 
versant with  men  before  the  day  of  open  wedlock.  But, 
stranger,  heed  well  what  I  say,  that  as  soon  as  may  be  thou 
mayest  gain  at  my  father's  hands  an  escort  and  a  safe  return. 
^Thou  shalt  find  a  fair  grove  of  Athene,  a  poplar  grove  near 
the  road,  and  a  spring  wells  forth  therein,  and  a  meadow  lies 
all  around.  There  is  my  father's  demesne,  and  his  fruitful 
close,  within  the  sound  of  a  man's  shout  from  the  city.  Sit  thee 
down  there  and  wait  until  such  time  as  we  may  have  come 
into  the  city,  and  reached  the  house  of  my  father.  But  when 
thou  deemest  that  we  are  got  to  the  palace,  then  go  up  to 
the  city  of  the  Phaeacians,  and  ask  for  the  house  of  my  father 
Alcinous,  high  of  heart.  It  is  easily  known,  and  a  young- 
child  could  be  thy  guide,  for  nowise  like  it  are  builded  the 


:f?&^';,'>|  ;     ':    '^pDVSSEV  VI,  302-331. 

houses  of  the  Phaeacians,  so  goodly  is  the  palace  of  the  hero 
Alcinous.  But  when  thou  art  within  the  shadow  of  the  halls 
and  the  court,  pass  quickly  through  the  great  chamber,  "till 
thou  comest  to  my  mother,  who  sits  at  the  hearth  in  the  light 
of  the  fire,  weaving  yarn  of  sea-purple  stain,  a  wonder  to  be- 
hold. Her  chair  is  leaned  against  a  pillar,  and  her  maidens 
sit  behind  her.  And  there  my  father's  throne  leans  close  to 
hers,  wherein  he  sits  and  drinks  his  wine,  like  an  immortal. 
Pass  thou  by  him,  and  cast  thy  hands  about  my  mother's 
knees,  that  thou  mayest  see  quickly  and  with  joy  the  day 
of  thy  returning,  even  if  thou  art  from  a  very  far  country. 
If  but  her  heart  be  kindly  disposed  toward  thee,  then  is 
there  hope  that  thou  shalt  see  thy  friends,  and  come  to  thy 
well-builded  house,  and  to  thine  own  country.* 

She  spake,  and  smote  the  mules  with  the  shining  whip, 
and  quickly  they  left  behind  them  the  streams  of  the  river. 
And  well  they  trotted  and  well  they  paced,  and  she  took 
heed  to  drive  in  such  wise  that  the  maidens  and  Odysseus 
might  follow  on  foot,  and  cunningly  she  plied  the  lash. 
Then  the  sun  set,  and  they  came  to  the  famous  grove,  the 
sacred  place  of  Athene ;  so  there  the  goodly  Odysseus  sat 
him  down.  Then  straightway  he  prayed  to  the  daughter  of 
mighty  Zeus :  *  Listen  to  me,  child  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the 
aegis,  unwearied  maiden ;  hear  me  even  now,  since  before 
thou  heardest  not  when  I  was  smitten  on  the  sea,  when'  the 
renowned  Earth-shaker  smote  me.  Grant  me  to  come  to 
the  Phaeacians  as  one  dear,  and  worthy  of  pity.* 

So  he  spake  in  prayer,  and  Pallas  Athene  heard  him ;  but 
she  did  not  yet  appear  to  him  face  to  face,  for  she  had 
regard  unto  her  father's  brother,  who  furiously  raged  against 
the  godlike  Odysseus,  till  he  should  come  to  his  own 
country. 


BOOK   VII. 

Odysseos  helng  received  at  the  house  of  the  king  Alcinous,  the  queen 
after  supper,  taking  notice  of  his  garments,  gives  him  occasion  to  relate 
his  passage  thither  on  the  raft.  Alcinous  promises  him  a  convoy  for 
the  morrow. 

So  he  prayed  there,  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus,  while 
the  two  strong  mules  bare  the  princess  to  the  town.  And 
when  she  had  now  come  to  the  famous  palace  of  her  father, 
she  halted  at  the  gateway,  and  round  her  gathered  her 
brothers,  men  like  to  the  immortals,  and  they  loosed  the 
mules  from  under  the  car,  and  carried  the  raiment  within. 
But  the  maiden  betook  her  to  her  chamber;  and  an  aged 
dame  from  Aperaea  kindled  the  fire  for  her,  Eurymedusa, 
the  handmaid  of  the  chamber,  whom  the  curved  ships  upon 
a  time  had  brought  from  Aperaea ;  and  men  chose  her  as 
a  prize  for  Alcinous,  seeing  that  he  bare  rule  over  all  the 
Phaeacians,  and  the  people  hearkened  to  him  as  to  a  god. 
She  waited  on  the  white-armed  Nausicaa  in  the  palace  halls ; 
she  was  wont  to  kindle  the  fire  and  prepare  the  supper  in 
the  inner  chamber. 

At  that  same  hour  Odysseus  roused  him  to  go  to  the  city, 
and  Athene  shed  a  deep  mist  about  Odysseus  for  the  favour 
that  she  bare  him,  lest  any  of  the  Phaeacians,  high  of  heart, 
should  meet  him  and  mock  him  in  sharp  speech,  and  ask 
him  who  he  was.  But  when  he  was  now  about  to  enter  the 
pleasant  city,  then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  met  him, 
in  the  fashion  of  a  young  maiden  carrying  a  pitcher,  and  she 
stood  over  against  him,  and  goodly  Odysseus  inquired  of  her : 

*  My  child,  couldst  thou  not  lead  me  to  the  palace  of  the 
lord  Alcinous,  who  bears  sway  among  this  people  ?     Lo,  I 


104  ODYSSEY  VII,  iJ4-57. 

am  come  here,  a  stranger  travel-worn  from  afar,  from  a 
distant  land;  wherefore  of  the  folk  who  possess  this  city  and 
country  I  know  not  any  man/ 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  answered  him  say- 
ing: 'Yea  now,  father  and  stranger,  I  will  show  thee  the 
house  that  thou  bidst  me  declare,  for  it  lies  near  the  palace 
of  my  noble  father ;  behold,  be  silent  as  thou  goest,  and  I  will 
lead  the  way.  And  look  on  no  man,  nor  question  any.  For 
these  men  do  not  gladly  suffer  strangers,  nor  lovingly  entreat 
whoso  Cometh  from  a  strange  land.  They  t?ust  to  the  speed  of 
their  swift  ships,  v/herewith  they  cross  the  great  gulf,  for  the 
Earth-shaker  hath  vouchsafed  them  this  power.  Their  ships 
are  swift  as  the  flight  of  a  bird,  or  as"  a  thought* 

Therewith  Pallas  Athene  led  the  way  swifdy,  and  he  fol- 
lowed hard  in  the  footsteps  of  the  goddess.  And  it  came  to 
pass  that  the  Phaeacians,  mariners  renowned,  marked  him 
not  as  he  went  down  the  city  through  their  midst,  for  the  fair- 
tressed  Athene  suffered  it  not,  that  awful  goddess,  who  shed  a 
wondrous  mist  about  him,  for  the  favour  that  she  bare  him  in 
her  heart.  And  Odysseus  marvelled  at  the  havens  and  the 
gallant  ships,  yea  and  the  places  of  assembly  of  the  heroes,  and 
the  long  high  walls  crowned  with  palisades,  a  marvel  to  behold. 
But  when  they  had  now  come  to  the  famous  palace  of  the 
king,  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  spake  first  and  said : 

*  Lo,  here,  father  and  stranger,  is  the  house  that  thou 
wouldst  have  me  show  thee:  and  thou  shalt  find  kings  at 
the  feast,  the  fosterlings  of  Zeus;  enter  then,  and  fear  not 
in  thine  heart,  for  the  dauntless  man  is  the  best  in  every 
adventure,  even  though  he  come  from  a  strange  land.  Thou 
shalt  find  the  queen  first  in  the  halls:  Arete  is  the  name 
whereby  men  call  her,  and  she  came  even  of  those  that  begat 
the  king  Alcinous.  First  Nausithous  was  son  of  Poseidon, 
the  Earth-shaker,  and  of  Periboea,  the  comeliest  of  women, 


ODVSSEV  VII,  58-88.  105 

youngest  daughter  of  great-hearted  Eurymedon,  who  once 
was  king  among  the  haughty  Giants.  Howbeit,  he  de- 
stroyed his  infatuate  people,  and  was  himself  destroyed ; 
but  Poseidon  lay  with  Periboea  and  begat  a  son,  proud 
Nausithous,  who  sometime  was  prince  among  the  Phaea- 
cians;  and  Nausithous  begat  Rhexenor  and  Alcinous. 
While  Rhexenor  had  as  yet  no  son,  Apollo  of  the  silver 
bow  smote  him,  a  groom  new  wed,  leaving  in  his  halls  one 
only  child  Arete;  and  Alcinous  took  her  to  wife,  and 
honoured  her  as  no  other  woman  in  the  world  is  honoured, 
of  all  that  now-a-days  keep  house  under  the  hand  of  their 
lords.  Thus  she  hath,  and  hath  ever  had,  all  worship  heartily 
from  her  dear  children  and  from  her  lord  Alcinous  and  from 
all  the  folk,  who  look  on  her  as  on  a  goddess,  and  greet  her 
with  reverend  speech,  when  she  goes  about  the  town.  Yea, 
for  she  too  hath  no  lack  of  understanding.  To  whomso  she 
shows  favour,  even  if  they  be  men,  she  ends  their  feuds.* 
If  but  her  heart  be  kindly  disposed  to  thee,  then  is  there 
good  hope  that  thou  mayest  see  thy  friends,  and  come  to  thy 
high-roofed  home  and  thine  own  country.* 

Therewith  grey-eyed  Athene  departed  over  the  unhar- 
vested  seas,  and  left  pleasant  Scheria,  and  came  to  Marathon 
and  wide-wayed  Athens,  and  entered  the  good  house  of 
Erechtheus.  Meanwhile  Odysseus  went  to  the  famous  palace 
of  Alcinous,  and  his  heart  was  full  of  many  thoughts  as  he 
stood  there  or  ever  he  had  reached  the  threshold  of  bronze. 
For  there  was  a  gleam  as  it  were  of  sun  or  moon  through 
the  high-roofed  hall  of  great-hearted  Alcinous.  Brazen  were 
the  walls  which  ran  this  way  and  that  from  the  threshold  to 
the  inmost  chamber,  and  round  them  was  a  frieze  of  blue, 
and  golden  were  the  doors  that  closed  in  the  good  house. 

*  V,  1.  ^<r«/.  And  for  the  women  she  favours,  she  ends  the  feuds  of  theii 
lords  also. 


I06  ODVSSEV  VII,  89-1:24. 

Silver  were  the  door-posts  that  were  set  on  the  brazen  thres- 
hold, and  silver  the  lintel  thereupon,  and  the  hook  of  the  door 
was  of  gold.  And  on  either  side  stood  golden  hounds  and 
silver,  which  Hephaestus  wrought  by  his  cunning,  to  guard 
the  palace  of  great-hearted  Alcinous,  being  free  from  death  • 
and  age  all  their  days.  And  within  were  seats  arrayed  against 
the  wall  this  way  and  that,  from  the  threshold  even  to  the 
inmost  chamber,  and  thereon  were  spread  light  coverings 
finely  woven,  the  handiwork  of  women.  There  the  Phaeacian 
chieftains  were  wont  to  sit  eating  and  drinking,  for  they  had 
continual  store.  Yea,  and  there  were  youths  fashioned  in 
gold,  standing  on  firm-set  bases,  with  flaming  torches  in  their 
hands,  giving  light  through  the  night  to  the  feasters  in  the 
palace.  And  he  had  fifty  handmaids  in  the  house,  and  some 
grind  the  yellow  grain  on  the  millstone,  and  others  weave 
webs  and  turn  the  yarn  as  they  sit,  restless  as  the  leaves 
of  the  tall  poplar  tree  :  and  the  soft  olive  oil  drops  off  that 
linen,  so  closely  is  it  woven.  For  as  the  Phaeacian  men  are 
skilled  beyond  all  others  in  driving  a  swift  ship  upon  the 
deep,  even  so  are  the  women  the  most  cunning  at  the  loom, 
for  Athene  hath  given  them  notable  wisdom  in  all  fair  handi- 
work and  cunning  wit.  And  without  the  courtyard  hard  by 
the  door  is  a  great  garden,  of  four  ploughgates,  and  a  hedge 
runs  round  on  either  side.  And  there  grow  tall  trees  blossom- 
ing, pear-trees  and  pomegranates,  and  apple-trees  with  bright 
fruit,  and  sweet  figs,  and  olives  in  their  bloom.  The  fruit  of 
these  trees  never  perisheth  neither  faileth,  winter  or  summer, 
enduring  through  all  the  year.  Evermore  the  West  Wind 
blowing  brings  some  fruits  to  birth  and  ripens  others.  Pear 
upon  pear  waxes  old,  and  apple  on  apple,  yea  and  cluster 
ripens  upon  cluster  of  the  grape,  and  fig  upon  fig.  There 
too  hath  he  a  fruitful  vineyard  planted,  whereof  the  one  part 
is  being  dried  by  the  heat,  a  sunny  plot  on  level  ground, 


ODYSSEY  VII,   124-153.  107 

while  other  grapes  men  are  gathering,  and  yet  others  they 
are  treading  in  the  wine-press.  In  the  foremost  row  are 
unripe  grapes  that  cast  the  blossom,  and  others  there  be  that 
are  growing  black  to  vintaging.  There  too,  skirting  the 
furthest  line,  are  all  manner  of  garden  beds,  planted  trimly, 
that  are  perpetually  fresh,  and  therein  are  two  fountains  of 
water,  whereof  one  scatters  his  streams  all  about  the  garden, 
and  the  other  runs  over  against  it  beneath  the  threshold  of 
the  courtyard,  and  issues  by  the  lofty  house,  and  thence  did 
the  townsfolk  draw  water.  These  were  the  splendid  gifts  of 
the  gods  in  the  palace  of  Alcinous. 

There  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  stood  and  gazed.  But 
when  he  had  gazed  at  all  and  wondered,  he  passed  quickly 
over  the  threshold  within  the  house.  And  he  found  the  cap- 
tains arid  the  counsellors  of  the  Phaeacians  pouring  forth  wine 
to  the  keen-sighted  god,  the  slayer  of  Argos ;  for  to  him  they 
poured  the  last  cup  when  they  were  minded  to  take  rest. 
Now  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  went  through  the  house, 
clad  in  a  thick  mist,  which  Athene  shed  around  him,  till  he 
came  to  Arete  and  the  king  Alcinous.  And  Odysseus  cast 
his  hands  about  the  knees  of  Arete,  and  then  it  was  that  the 
wondrous  mist  melted  from  off  him,  and  a  silence  fell  on  them 
that  were  within  the  house  at  the  sight  of  him,  and  they  mar- 
velled as  they  beheld  him.    Then  Odysseus  began  his  prayer : 

'  Arete,  daughter  of  god-like  Rhexenor,  after  many  toils 
am  I  come  to  thy  husband  and  to  thy  knees  and  to  these 
guests,  and  may  the  gods  vouchsafe  them  a  happy  life,  and 
may  each  one  leave  to  his  children  after  him  his  substance 
in  his  halls  and  whatever  dues  of  honour  the  people  have 
rendered  unto  him.  But  speed,  I  pray  you,  my  parting  right 
quickly,  that  I  may  come  to  mine  own  country,  for  already 
too  long  do  I  suffer  affliction  far  from  my  friends.' 

Therewith  he  sat  him  down  by  the  hearth  in  the  ashes  at 


lo8  OpVSSEV  VII,  154-184, 

the  fire,  and  behold,  a  dead  silence  fell  on  all.  And  at  the 
last  the  ancient  lord  Echeneus  spake  among  them,  an  elder 
of  the  Phaeacians,  excellent  in  speech  and  skilled  in  much 
wisdom  of  old  time.  With  good  will  he  made  harangue  and 
spake  among  them : 

*  Alcinous,  this  truly  is  not  the  more  seemly  way,  nor  is  it 
fitting  that  the  stranger  should  sit  upon  the  ground  in  the 
ashes  by  the  hearth,  while  these  men  refrain  them,  waiting 
thy  word.  Nay  come,  bid  the  stranger  arise,  and  set  him  on 
a  chair  inlaid  with  silver,  and  command  the  henchmen  to 
mix  the  wine,  that  we  may  pour  forth  likewise  before  Zeus, 
whose  joy  is  in  the  thunder,  who  attendeth  upon  reverend 
suppliants.  And  let  the  housewife  give  supper  to  the 
stranger  out  of  such  stores  as  be  within.' 

Now  when  the  mighty  king  Alcinous  heard  this  saying,  he 
took  Odysseus,  the  wise  and  crafty,  by  the  hand,  and  raised 
him  from  the  hearth,  and  set  him  on  a  shining  chair,  whence 
he  bade  his  son  give  place,  valiant  Laodamas,  who  sat  next 
him  and  was  his  dearest.  And  a  handmaid  bare  water  for 
the  hands  in  a  goodly  golden  ewer,  and  poured  it  forth  over 
a  silver  basin  to  wash  withal,  and  drew  to  his  side  a  polished 
table.  And  a  grave  dame  bare  wheaten  bread  and  set  it  by 
him  and  laid  upon  the  board  many  dainties,  giving  freely 
of  such  things  as  she  had  by  her.  So  the  steadfast  goodly 
Odysseus  did  eat  and  drink;  and  then  the  mighty  king 
Alcinous  spake  unto  the  henchman : 

*  Pontonous,  mix  the  bowl  and  serve  out  the  wine  to  all 
in  the  hall,  that  we  may  pour  forth  likewise  before  Zeus, 
whose  joy  is  in  the  thunder,  who  attendeth  upon  reverend 
suppliants.' 

So  spake  he,  and  Pontonous  mixed  the  honey-hearted  wine, 
and  served  it  out  to  all,  when  he  had  poured  for  libation  into 
each  cup  in  turn.     But  when  they  had  poured  forth  and  had 


ODVSSEV  VII,  184-217.  109 

drunken  to  their  heart's  content,  Alcinous  made  harangue  and 
spake  among  them : 

*  Hear  me,  ye  captains  and  counsellors  of  the  Phaeacians, 
that  I  may  speak  as  my  spirit  bids  me.  Now  that  the  feast 
is  over,  go  ye  home  and  lie  down  to  rest ;  and  in  the  morning 
we  will  call  yet  more  elders  together,  and  entertain  the 
stranger  in  the  halls  and  do  fair  sacrifice  to  the  gods,  and 
thereafter  we  will  likewise  bethink  us  of  the  convoy,  that  so 
without  pain  or  grief  yonder  stranger  may  by  our  convoy 
reach  his  own  country  speedily  and  with  joy,  even  though  he 
be  from  very  far  away.  So  shall  he  suffer  no  hurt  or  harm  in 
mid  passage,  ere  he  set  foot  on  his  own  land;  but  there- 
after he  shall  endure  such  things  as  Fate  and  the  stern 
spinning  women  drew  off  the  spindles  for  him  at  his  birth 
when  his  mother  bare  him.  But  if  he  is  some  deathless  god 
come  down  from  heaven,  then  is  this  some  new  device 
wherewith  the  gods  encompass  us.  For  always  heretofore 
the  gods  appear  manifest  amongst  us,  whensoever  we  offer 
glorious  hecatombs,  and  they  feast  by  our  side,  sitting  at  the 
same  board  ;  yea,  and  even  if  a  wayfarer  going  all  alone  has 
met  with  them,  they  use  no  disguise,  since  we  are  near  of 
kin  to  them,  even  as  are  the  Cyclopes  and  the  wild  tribes  of 
the  Giants.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him,  saying: 
'  Alcinous,  that  thought  be  far  from  thee !  for  I  bear  no 
likeness  either  in  form  or  fashion  to  the  deathless  gods,  who 
keep  wide  heaven,  but  to  men  that  die.  Whomsoever  ye 
know  of  human  kind  the  heaviest  laden  with  sorrow,  to 
them  might  I  liken  myself  in  my  griefs.  Yea,  and  I  might 
tell  of  yet  other  woes,  even  the  long  tale  of  toil  that  by  the 
gods'  will  I  endured.  But  as  for  me,  suffer  me  to  sup, 
afflicted  as  I  am ;  for  nought  is  there  more  shameless  than  a 
ravening  belly,  which  biddeth  a  man  perforce  be  mindful  of 


no  OBVSSEV  VII,  iZ 1 8-248. 

him,  though  one  be  worn  and  sorrowful  in  spirit,  even  as  I 
have  sorrow  of  heart ;  yet  evermore  he  biddeth  me  eat  and 
drink  and  maketh  me  utterly  to  forget  all  my  sufferings,  and 
commandeth  me  to  take  my  fill.  But  do  ye  bestir  you  at 
the  breaking  of  the  day,  that  so  ye  may  set  me,  hapless  as 
I  am,  upon  my  country's  soil,  albeit  after  much  suffering. 
Ah,  and  may  life  leave  me  when  I  have  had  sight  of  mine 
own  possessions,  my  thralls,  and  my  dwelling  that  is  great 
and  high ! ' 

So  spake  he,  and  they  all  assented  thereto,  and  bade  send 
the  stranger  on  his  way,  for  that  he  had  spoken  aright.  Now 
when  they  had  poured  forth  and  had  drunken  to  their  hearts* 
content,  they  went  each  one  to  his  house  to  lay  them  to  rest. 
But  goodly  Odysseus  was  left  behind  in  the  hall,  and  by  him 
sat  Arete  and  godlike  Alcinous ;  and  the  maids  cleared  away 
the  furniture  of  the  feast ;  and  white-armed  Arete  first  spake 
among  them.  For  she  knew  the  mande  and  the  doublet, 
when  she  saw  the  goodly  raiment  that  she  herself  had 
wrought  with  the  women  her  handmaids.  So  she  uttered 
her  voice  and  spake  to  him  winged  words  : 

*  Sir,  I  am  bold  to  ask  thee  first  of  this.  Who  art  thou 
of  the  sons  of  men,  and  whence?  Who  gave  thee  this 
raiment  ?  Didst  thou  not  say  indeed  that  thou  camest  hither 
wandering  over  the  deep?* 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her,  and  said : 
*  'Tis  hard,  O  queen,  to  tell  my  griefs  from  end  to  end,  for 
that  the  gods  of  heaven  have  given  me  griefs  in  plenty.  But 
this  will  I  declare  to  thee,  whereof  thou  dost  question  and 
inquire.  There  is  an  isle,  Ogygia,  that  lies  far  off  in  the 
sea;  there  dwells  the  daughter  of  Adas,  crafty  Calypso,  of  the 
braided  tresses,  an  awful  goddess,  nor  is  any  either  of  gods 
or  mortals  conversant  with  her.  Howbeit,  some  god  brought 
me  to  her  hearth,  wretched  man  that  I  am,  all  alone,  for  that 


ODYSSEY  VII,  249-281.  Ill 

Zeus  with  white  bolt  crushed  my  swift  ship  and  cleft  it  in  the 
midst  of  the  wine-dark  deep.  There  all  the  rest  of  my  good 
company  was  lost,  but  I  clung  with  fast  embrace  about  the 
keel  of  the  curved  ship,  and  so  was  I  borne  for  nine 
whole  days.  And  on  the  tenth  dark  night  the  gods  brought 
me  nigh  the  isle  Ogygia,  where  Calypso  of  the  braided 
tresses  dwells,  an  awful  goddess.  She  took  me  in,  and  with 
all  care  she  cherished  me  and  gave  me  sustenance,  and  said 
that  she  would  make  me  to  know  not  death  nor  age  for  all 
my  days ;  but  never  did  she  win  my  heart  within  me. 
There  I  abode  for  seven  years  continually,  and  watered  with 
my  tears  the  imperishable  raiment  that  Calypso  gave  me. 
But  when  the  eighth  year  came  round  in  his  course,  then 
at  last  she  urged  and  bade  me  to  be  gone,  by  reason  of  a 
message  from  Zeus,  or  it  may  be  that  her  own  mind  was 
turned.  So  she  sent  me  forth  on  a  well-bound  raft,  and  gave 
me  plenteous  store,  bread  and  sweet  wine,  and  she  clad  me 
in  imperishable  raiment,  and  sent  forth  a  warm  and  gentle 
wind  to  blow.  For  ten  days  and  seven  I  sailed,  traversing 
the  deep,  and  on  the  eighteenth  day  the  shadowy  hills  of 
your  land  showed  in  sight,  and  my  heart  was  glad, — 
wretched  that  I  was — for  surely  I  was  still  to  be  the  mate  of 
much  sorrow.  For  Poseidon,  shaker  of  the  earth,  stirred 
up  the  same,  who  roused  against  m.e  the  winds  and  stopped 
my  way,  and  made  a  wondrous  sea  to  swell,  nor  did  the 
wave  suffer  me  to  be  borne  upon  my  raft,  as  I  made  ceaseless 
moan.  Thus  the  storm  winds  shattered  the  raft,  but  as  for 
me  I  cleft  my  way  through  the  gulf  yonder,  till  the  wind 
bare  and  the  water  brought  me  nigh  your  coast.  Then  as 
I  strove  to  land  upon  the  shore,  the  wave  had  overwhelmed 
me,  dashing  me  against  the  great  rocks  and  a  desolate 
place,  but  at  length  I  gave  way  and  swam  back,  till  I  came 
to  the  river,  where  the  place  seemed  best  in  mine  eyes, 


11%  ODYSSEY  Vll,  ^^82-314. 

smooth  of  rocks,  and  withal  there  was  a  shelter  from  the 
wind.  And  as  I  came  out  I  sank  down,  gathering  to  me 
my  spirit,  and  immortal  night  came  on.  Then  I  gat  me 
forth  and  away  from  the  heaven-fed  river,  and  laid  me  to 
sleep  in  the  bushes  and  strewed  leaves  about  me,  and  the 
god  shed  over  me  infinite  sleep.  There  among  the  leaves 
I  slept,  stricken  at  heart,  all  the  night  long,  even  till  the 
morning  and  mid-day.  And  the  sun  sank  when  sweet  sleep 
let  me  free.  And  I  was  aware  of  the  company  of  thy  daughter 
disporting  them  upon  the  sand,  and  there  was  she  in  the 
midst  of  them  like  unto  the  goddesses.  To  her  I  made  my 
supplication,  and  she  showed  no  lack  of  a  good  understand- 
ing, behaving  so  as  thou  couldst  not  hope  for  in  chancing 
upon  one  so  young;  for  the  younger  folk  lack  wisdom 
always.  She  gave  me  bread  enough  and  red  wine,  and  let 
wash  me  in  the  river  and  bestowed  on  me  these  garments. 
Herein,  albeit  in  sore  distress,  have  I  told  thee  all  the  truth.' 

And  Alcinous  answered  again,  and  spake  saying :  *  Sir, 
surely  this  was  no  right  thought  of  my  daughter,  in  that 
she  brought  thee  not  to  our  house  with  the  women  her 
handmaids,  though  thou  didst  first  entreat  her  grace.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered,  and  said  unto 
him  :  '  My  lord,  chide  not,  I  pray  thee,  for  this  the  blame- 
less maiden.  For  indeed  she  bade  me  follow  with  her 
company,  but  I  would  not  for  fear  and  very  shame,  lest 
perchance  thine  heart  might  be  clouded  at  the  sight;  for 
a  jealous  race  upon  the  earth  are  we,  the  tribes  of  men.' 

And  Alcinous  answered  yet  again,  and  spake  saying :  '  Sir, 
my  heart  within  me  is  not  of  such  temper  as  to  have  been  wroth 
without  a  cause :  due  measure  in  all  things  is  best.  Would 
to  father  Zeus,  and  Athene,  and  Apollo,  would  that  so  goodly 
a  man  as  thou  art,  and  like-minded  with  me,  thou  wouldst 
wed  my  daughter,  and  be  called  my  son,  here  abiding  :  so 


onvssEv  VII,  314-343.  1T3 

would  I  give  thee  house  and  wealth,  if  thou  wouldst  stay  of 
thine  own  will  :  but  against  thy  will  shall  none  of  the  Phaea- 
cians  keep  thee :  never  be  this  well-pleasing  in  the  eyes  of 
father  Zeus!  And  now  I  ordain  an  escort  for  thee  on  a 
certain  day,  that  thou  mayst  surely  know,  and  that  day  the 
morrow.  Then  shalt  thou  lay  thee  down  overcome  by  sleep, 
and  they  the  while  shall  smite  the  calm  waters,  till  thou  come 
to  thy  country  and  thy  house,  and  whatsoever  place  is  dear  to 
thee,  even  though  it  be  much  farther  than  Euboea,  which 
certain  of  our  men  say  is  the  farthest  of  lands,  they  who  saw 
it,  when  they  carried  Rhadamanthus,  of  the  fair  hair,  to  visit 
Tityos,  son  of  Gaia.  Even  thither  they  went,  and  accom- 
plished the  journey  on  the  self-same  day  and  won  home 
again,  and  were  not  weary.  And  now  shalt  thou  know  for 
thyself  how  far  my  ships  are  the  best,  and  how  my  young 
men  excel  at  tossing  the  salt  water  with  the  oar-blade.' 

So  spake  he,  and  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  rejoiced ; 
and  then  he  uttered  a  word  in  prayer,  and  called  aloud  to 
Zeus:  'Father  Zeus,  oh  that  Alcinous  may  fulfil  all  that 
he  hath  said,  so  may  his  fame  never  be  quenched  upon  the 
earth,  the  grain-giver,  ajid  I  should  come  to  mine  own 
land  1' 

Thus  they  spake  one  to  the  other.  And  white-armed 
Arete  bade  her  handmaids  set  out  bedsteads  beneath  the 
corridor,  and  cast  fair  purple  blankets  over  them,  and  spread 
coverlets  above,  and  thereon  lay  thick  mantles  to  be  a 
clothing  over  all.  So  they  went  from  the  hall  with  torch  in 
hand.  But  when  they  had  busied  them  and  spread  the 
good  bedstead,  they  stood  by  Odysseus  and  called  unto  him, 
saying : 

*Up  now,  stranger,  and  get  thee  to  sleep,  thy  bed  is 
made.' 

So  spake  they,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  rest  was  won- 
I 


TI4  ODYSSEY  VII,   343-347. 

drous  good.  So  he  slept  there,  the  steadfast  goodly  Odys- 
seus, on  the  jointed  bedstead,  beneath  the  echoing  corridor. 
But  Alcinous  laid  him  down  in  the  innermost  chamber  of  the 
high  house,  and  by  him  the  lady  his  wife  arrayed  bedstead 
and  bedding. 


BOOK  vm. 

Ttie  next  day's  entertainment  of  Odysseus,  where  he  sees  them  contend 
in  wrestling  and  other  exercises,  and  upon  provocation  took  up  a  greater 
stone  than  that  which  they  were  throwing,  and  overthrew  them  all.  Alcinoiis 
and  the  lords  give  him  presents.  And  how  the  king  asked  his  name,  his 
country,  and  his  adventures. 

Now  when  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
then  the  mighty  king  Alcinous  gat  him  up  from  his  bed ;  and 
Odysseus,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Hkewise  uprose,  the  waster  of 
cities.  And  the  mighty  king  Alcinous  led  the  way  to  the 
assembly  place  of  the  Phaeacians,  which  they  had  stablished 
hard  by  the  ships.  So  when  they  had  come  thither,  and  sat 
them  down  on  the  polished  stones  close  by  each  other, 
Pallas  Athene  went  on  her  way  through  the  town,  in  the 
semblance  of  the  herald  of  wise  Alcinous,  devising  a  return 
for  the  great-hearted  Odysseus.  Then  standing  by  each  man 
she  spake,  saying: 

*  Hither  now  get  ye  to  the  assembly,  ye  captains  and  coun- 
sellors of  the  Phaeacians,  that  ye  may  learn  concerning  the 
stranger,  who  hath  lately  come  to  the  palace  of  wise  Alcinous, 
in  his  wanderings  over  the  deep,  and  his  form  is  like  the 
deathless  gods.' 

Therewith  she  aroused  the  spirit  and  desire  of  each  one, 
and  speedily  the  meeting-places  and  seats  were  filled  with 
men  that  came  to  the  gathering :  yea,  and  many  an  one 
marvelled  at  the  sight  of  the  wise  son  of  Laertes,  for  won 
drous  was  the  grace  Athene  poured  upon  his  head  and 
shoulders,  and  she  made  him  greater  and  more  mighty  to 
behold,  that  he  might  win  love  and  worship  and  honour 

I  a 


ii5  ODYSSEY  VIII,  22-54. 

among  all  the  Phaeacians,  and  that  he  might  accomplish 
many  feats,  wherein  the  Phaeacians  made  trial  of  Odysseus. 
Now  when  they  were  gathered  and  come  together,  Alcinous 
made  harangue  and  spake  among  them: 

•  Hearken,  ye  captains  and  counsellors  of  the  Phaeacians, 
and  I  will  say  that  which  my  spirit  within  me  bids  me  utter. 
This  stranger,  I  know  not  who  he  is,  hath  come  to  my 
house  in  his  wandering,  whether  from  the  rnen  of  the 
dawning  or  the  westward,  and  he  presses  for  a  convoy,  and 
prays  that  it  be  assured  to  him.  So  let  us,  as  in  time  past, 
speed  on  the  convoy.  For  never,  nay  never,  doth  any  man 
who  cometh  to  my  house,  abide  here  long  in  sorrow  for 
want  of  help  upon  his  way.  Nay,  come  let  us  draw  down  a 
black  ship  to  the  fair  salt  sea,  for  her  first  voyage,  and  let  them 
choose  fifty  and  two  noble  youths  throughout  the  township, 
who  have  been  proved  heretofore  the  best.  And  when  ye  have 
made  fast  the  oars  upon  the  benches,  step  all  ashore,  and 
thereafter  come  to  our  house,  and  quickly  fall  to  feasting; 
and  I  will  make  good  provision  for  all.  To  the  noble  youths 
I  give  this  commandment;  but  ye  others,  sceptred  kings, 
come  to  my  fair  dwelling,  that  we  may  entertain  the  stranger 
in  the  halls,  and  let  no  man  make  excuse.  Moreover,  bid 
hither  the  divine  minstrel,  Demodocus,  for  the  god  hath 
given  minstrelsy  to  him  as  to  none  other,  to  make  men  glad 
in  what  way  soever  his  spirit  stirs  him  to  sing.' 

He  spake  and  led  the  way,  and  the  sceptred  kings  ac- 
companied him,  while  the  henchman  went  for  the  divine 
minstrel.  And  chosen  youths,  fifty  and  two,  departed  at 
his  command,  to  the  shore  of  the  unharvested  sea.  But 
after  they  had  gone  down  to  the  ship  and  to  the  sea,  first  of 
all  they  drew  the  ship  down  to  the  deep  water,  and  placed 
the  mast  and  sails  in  the  black  ship,  and  fixed  the  oars  in 
leathern  loops,  all  orderly,  and  spread  forth  the  white  sails. 


ODVSSEV  VIII,  55-84.  117 

And  they  moored  her  high  out  in  the  shore  water,  and  there- 
after went  on  their  way  to  the  great  palace  of  the  wise 
Alcinous.  Norw  the  corridors  and  the  courts  and  the  rooms 
were  thronged  with  men  that  came  to  the  gathering,  for  there 
were  many,  young  and  old.  Then  Alcinous  sacrificed 
twelve  sheep  among  them,  and  eight  boars  with  flashing 
tusksj  and  two  oxen  with  trailing  feet.  These  they  flayed 
and  made  ready,  and  dressed  a  goodly  feast. 

Then  the  henchmen  drew  near,  leading  with  him  the 
beloved  minstrel,  whom  the  muse  loved  dearly,  and  she  gave 
him  both  good  and  evil;  of  his  sight  she  reft  him,  but 
granted  him  sweet  song.  Then  Pontonous,  the  henchman, 
set  for  him  a  high  chair  inlaid  with  silver,  in  the  midst  of  the 
guests,  leaning  it  against  the  tall  pillar,  and  he  hung  the  loud 
lyre  on  a  pin,  close  above  his  head,  and  showed  him  how  to 
lay  his  hands  on  it.  And  close  by  him  he  placed  a  basket, 
and  a  fair  table,  and  a  goblet  of  wine  by  his  side,  to  drink 
when  his  spirit  bade  him.  So  they  stretched  forth  their  hands 
upon  the  good  cheer  spread  before  them.  But  after  they  had 
put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and  drink,  the  muse  stirred 
the  minstrel  to  sing  the  songs  of  famous  men,  even  that  lay 
whereof  the  fame  had  then  reached  the  wide  heaven,  namely, 
the  quarrel  between  Odysseus  and  Achilles,  son  of  Peleus;  >^' 
how  once  on  a  time  they  contended  in  fierce  words  at  a  rich 
festival  of  the  gods,  but  Agamemnon,  king  of  men,  was  inly 
glad  when  the  noblest  of  the  Achaeans  fell  at  variance.  For 
so  Phoebus  Apollo  in  his  soothsaying  had  told  him  that  it  I  ^ 
must  be,  in  goodly  Pythb,  what  time  he  crossed  the  threshold 
of  stone,  to  seek  to  the  oracle.  For  in  those  days  the  first 
wave  of  woe  was  rolling  on  Trojans  and  Danaans  thi-ough 
the  counsel  of  great  Zeus. 

This  song  it  was  that  the  famous   minstrel   sang;    but 
Odysseus  caught  his  great  purple  cloak  with  his  stalwart 


Il8  ODYSSEY  VIII,  85-115. 

hands,  and  drew  it  down  over  his  head,  and  hid  his  comely 
face,  for  he  was  ashamed  to  shed  tears  beneath  his  brows 
in  presence  of  the  Phaeacians.  Yea,  and  oft  as  the  divine 
minstrel  paused  in  his  song,  Odysseus  would  wipe  away 
the  tears,  and  draw  the  cloak  from  off  his  head,  and  take 
the  double  goblet  and  pour  forth  before  the  gods.  But 
whensoever  he  began  again,  and  the  chiefs  of  the  Phaeacians 
stirred  him  to  sing,  in  delight  at  the  lay,  again  would  Odys- 
seus cover  up  his  head  and  make  moan.  Now  none  of  all 
the  company  marked  him  weeping,  but  Alcinous  alone  noted 
it  and  was  ware  thereof  as  he  sat  by  him  and  heard  him 
groaning  heavily.  And  presently  he  spake  among  the  Pjiaea- 
cians,  masters  of  the  oar : 

*  Hearken,  ye  captains  and  counsellors  of  the  Phaeacians, 
now  have  our  souls  been  satisfied  with  the  good  feast,  and 
with  the  lyre,  which  is  the  mate  of  the  rich  banquet.  Let  us 
go  forth  anon,  and  make  trial  of  divers  games,  that  the 
stranger  may  tell  his  friends,  when  home  he  returneth,  how 
greatly  we  excel  all  men  in  boxing,  and  wrestling,  and  leap- 
ing, and  speed  of  foot.' 

He  spake,  and  led  the  way,  and  they  went  with  him.  And 
the  henchman  hung  the  loud  lyre  on  the  pin,  and  took  the 
hand  of  Demodocus,  and  led  him  forth  from  the  hall,  and 
guided  him  by  the  same  way,  whereby  those  others,  the 
chiefs  of  the  Phaeacians,  had  gone  to  gaze  upon  the  games. 
So  they  went  on  their  way  to  the  place  of  assembly,  and 
with  them  a  great  company  innumerable ;  and  many  a  noble 
youth  stood  up  to  play.  There  rose  Acroneus,  and  Ocyalus, 
and  Elatreus,  and  Nauteus,  and  Prymneus,  and  Anchialus,  and 
Eretmeus,  and  Ponteus,  and  Proreus,  Thoon,  and  Anabesineus, 
and  Amphialus,  son  of  Polyneus,  son  of  Tekton,  and  likewise 
Euryalus,  the  peer  of  murderous  Ares,  the  son  of  Naubolus, 
who  in  face  and  form  was  goodliest  of  all  the  Phaeacians 


ODYSSEY  VIII,  117-148.  119 

next  to  noble  Laodamas.  And  there  stood  up  the  three 
sons  of  noble  Alcinous,  Laodamas,  and  Halius,  and  god-like 
Clytoneus.  And  behold,  these  all  first  tried  the  issue  in  the 
foot  race.  From  the  very  start  they  strained  at  utmost 
speed :  and  all  together  they  flew  forward  swiftly,  raising  the 
dust  along  the  plain.  And  noble  Clytoneus  was  far  the 
swiftest  of  them  all  in  running,  and  by  the  length  of  the 
furrow  that  mules  cleave  in  a  fallow  field  *,  so  far  did  he  shoot 
to  the  front,  and  came  to  the  crowd  by  the  lists,  while  those 
other  were  left  behind.  Then  they  made  trial  of  strong 
wrestling,  and  here  in  turn  Euijalus  excelled  all  the  best. 
And  in  leaping  Amphialus  was  far  the  foremost,  and  Elatreus 
in  weight-throwingTand  in  boxing  Laodamas,  the  good  son  of 
Alcinous.  Now  when  they  had  all  taken  their  pleasure  in  the 
games,  Laodamas,  son  of  Alcinous,  spake  among  them: 

*  Come,  my  friends,  let  us  ask  the  stranger  whether  he  is 
skilled  or  practised  in  any  sport.  Ill  fashioned,  at  least, 
he  is  not  in  his  thighs  and  sinewy  legs  and  hands  withal, 
and  his  stalwart  neck  and  mighty  strength  :  yea  and  he 
lacks  not  youth,  but  is  crushed  by  many  troubles.  For  I 
tell  thee  there  is  nought  else  worse  than  the  sea  to  confound 
a  man,  how  hardy  soever  he  may  be.' 

And  Euryalus  in  turn  made  answer,  and  said:  *  Laoda- 
mas, verily  thou  hast  spoken  this  word  in  season.  Go  now 
thyself  and  challenge  him,  and  declare  thy  saying.* 

Now  when  the  good  son  of  Alcinous  heard  this,  he  went 
and  stood  in  the  midst,  and  spake  unto  Odysseus  :  '  Come, 
do  thou  too,  father  and  stranger,  try  thy  skill  in  the  sports,  if 
haply  thou  art  practised  in  any ;  and  thou  art  like  to  have 
knowledge  of  games,  for  there  is  no  greater  glory  for  a  man 
while  yet  he  lives,  than  that  which  he  achieves  by  hand  and 

*  The  distance  here  indicated  seems  to  be  that  which  the  mule  goes  in 
ploughing,  without  pausing  to  take  breath. 


120  ODYSSEY.  . VIII,  149-179. 

foot.  Come,  then,  make  essay,  and  cast  away  care  from  thy 
soul:  thy  journey  shall  not  now  be  long  delayed;  lo,  thy 
ship  is  even  now  drawn  down  to  the  sea,  and  the  men  of 
thy  company  are  ready/ 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him,  saying ; 

*  Laodamas,  wherefore  do  ye  mock  me,  requiring  this  thing 
of  me  ?  Sorrow  is  far  nearer  my  heart  than  sports,  for  much 
have  I  endured  and  laboured  sorely  in  time  past,  and  now 
I  sit  in  this  your  gathering,  craving  my  return,  and  making 
my  prayer  to  the  king  and  all  the  people.' 

And  Euryalus  answered,  and  rebuked  him  to  his  face: 

*  No  truly,  stranger,  nor  do  I  think  thee  at  all  like  one  that 
is  skilled  in  games,  whereof  there  are  many  among  men, 
rather  art  thou  such  an  one  as  comes  and  goes  in  a  benched 
ship,  a  master  of  sailors  that  are  merchantmen,  one  with  a 
memory  for  his  freight,  or  that  hath  the  charge  of  a  cargo 
homeward  bound,  and  of  greedily  gotten  gains ;  thou  seemest 
not  a  man  of  thy  hands.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  looked  askance  and 
spake  unto  him  :  'Stranger,  thou  hast  not  spoken  well;  thou 
art  like  a  man  presumptuous.  So  true  it  is  that  the  gods  do 
not  give  every  gracious  gift  to  all,  neither  shapeliness,  nor 
wisdom,  nor  skilled  speech.  For  one  man  is  feebler  than 
another  in  presence,  yet  the  god  crowns  his  words  with 
beauty,  and  men  behold  him  and  rejoice,  and  his  speech  runs 
surely  on  his  way  with  a  sweet  modesty,  and  he  shines  forth 
among  the  gathering  of  his  people,  and  as  he  passes 
through  the  town  men  gaze  on  him  as  a  god.  Another 
again  is  like  the  deathless  gods  for  beauty,  but  his  words 
have  no  crown  of  grace  about  them;  even  as  thou  art  in 
comeliness  pre-eminent,  nor  could  a  god  himself  fashion  thee 
for  the  better,  but  in  wit  thou  art  a  weakling.  Yea,  thou  hast 
Stirred  my  spirit  in  my  breast  by  speaking  thus  amiss.    I  am 


ODYSSEY  VIIT,   179-21O.  121. 

not  all  unversed  in  sports,  as  thy  words  go,  but  methinks  I 
was  among  the  foremost  while  as  yet  I  trusted  in  my  youth 
and  my  hands,  but  now  am  I  holden  in  misery  and  pains : 
for  I  have  endured  much  in  passing  through  the  wars  of  men 
and  the  grievous  waves  of  the  sea.  Yet  even  so,  for  all  my 
affliction,  I  will  essay  the  games,  for  thy  word  hath  bitten  to 
the  quick,  and  thou  hast  roused  me  with  thy  saying/ 

He  spake,  and  clad  even  as  he  was  in  his  mantle  leaped  to 
his  feet,  and  caught  up  a  weight  larger  than  the  rest,  a  huge 
weight  heavier  far  than  those  wherewith  the  Phaeacians  con- 
tended in  casting.  With  one  whirl  he  sent  it  from  his  stout 
hand,  and  the  stone  flew  hurtling  :  and  the  Phaeacians, 
of  the  long  oars,  those  mariners  renowned,  crouched  to 
earth  beneath  the  rushing  of  the  stone.  Beyond  all  the 
marks  it  flew,  so  lightly  it  sped  from  his  hand,  and  Athene 
in  the  fashion  of  a  man  marked  the  place,  and  spake  and 
hailed  him: 

*Yea,  even  a  blind  man,  stranger,  might  discern  that 
token  if  he  groped  for  it,  for  it  is  in  no  wise  lost  among  the 
throng  of  the  others,  but  is  far  the  first ;  for  this  bout  then 
take  heart :  not  one  of  the  Phaeacians  shall  attain  thereunto 
or  overpass  it.' 

So  spake  she;  and  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  rejoiced 
and  was  glad,  for  that  he  saw  a  true  friend  in  the  lists. 
Then  with  a  lighter  heart  he  spake  amid  the  Phaeacians :  ■ 

*  Now  reach  ye  this  throw,  young  men,  if  ye  may ;  and 
soon,  methinks,  will  I  cast  another  after  it,  as  far  or  yet  further. 
And  whomsoever  of  the  rest  his  heart  and  spirit  stir  thereto, 
hither  let  him  come  and  try  the  issue  with  me,  in  boxing  or 
in  wrestling  or  even  in  the  foot  race,  I  care  not  which,  for 
ye  have  greatly  angered  me :  let  any  of  all  the  Phaeacians 
come  save  Laodamas  alone,  for  he  is  mine  host :  who  would 
Strive  with  one  that  entreated  him  kindly  ?  Widess  and  worth- 


♦-^    (n^ 


12%  ODYSSEY  VIII,  210-243. 

less  is  the  man,  whoso  challengeth  his  host  that  receiveth  him 
in  a  strange  land,  he  doth  but  maim  his  own  estate.  But  for 
the  rest,  I  refuse  none  and  hold  none  lightly,  but  I  fain  would 
know  and  prove  them  face  to  face.  For  I  am  no  weakling  in 
all  sports,  even  in  the  feats  of  men.  I  know  well  how  to  handle 
the  polished  bow,  and  ever  the  first  would  I  be  to  shoot  and 
smite  my  man  in  the  press  of  foes,  even  though  many  of  my 
r^  1/  ^  cgmpany  stood  by,  and  were  aiming  at  the  enemy.  Alone 
uc  <5(^^*^  Philoctetes  in  the  Trojan  land  surpassed  me  with  the  bow  in 
,  iA^i'v-^  A'^ur  Achaean  archery.  But  I  avow  myself  far  more  excellent 
^&*^</^  r^jJti2in  all  besides,  of  the  mortals  that  are  now  upon  the  earth 
v.r'*^*'^  *^  and  live  by  bread.  Yet  with  the  men  of  old  time  I  would 
^  ^^  ■ ;  not  match  me,  neither  with  Heracles  nor  with  Eurytus  of 
,  tyv-^-^^  Oechalia,  who  contended  even  with  the  deathless  gods  for 
^  •  the  prize  of  archery.     Wherefore  the  great  Eurytus  perished 

all  too  soon,  nor  did  old  age  come  on  him  in  his  halls,  for 
^^^^  oy  iJ^poWo  slew  him  in  his  wrath,  seeing  that  he  challenged  him 
■     .^   AA       *o  shoot  a  match.     And  with  the  spear  I  can  throw  further 
than  any  other  man  can  shoot  an  arrow.     Only  I  doubt  that 
^  .   in  the  foot  race  some  of  the  Phaeacians  may  outstrip  me, 
^^iyrx  for  I  have  been  shamefully  broken  in  many  waters,  seeing 

^.  *       '/    that  there  was  no  continual  sustenance  on  board ;  wherefore 
'^fJt^^  '       my  knees  are  loosened.' 

^  Mf^^  •  So  spake  he  and  all  kept  silence ;   and  Alcinous  alone 

answered  him,  saying : 

*  Stranger,  forasmuch  as  these  thy  words  are  not  ill-taken 
in  our  gathering,  but  thou  wouldest  fain  show  forth  the 
valour  which  keeps  thee  company,  being  angry  that  yonder 
man  stood  by  thee  in  the  lists,  and  taunted  thee,  in  such 
sort  as  no  mortal  would  speak  lightly  of  thine  excellence, 
who  had  knowledge  of  sound  words;  nay  now,  mark  my 
speech;  so  shalt  thou  have  somewhat  to  tell  another  hero, 
when  with  thy  wife  and  children  thou  suppest  in  thy  halls, 


ODYSSEY  VIII,  !244-!273.  123 

and  recallest  our  prowess,  what  deeds  Zeus  bestoweth 
even  upon  us  from  our  fathers'  days  even  until  now. 
For  we  are  no  perfect  boxers,  nor  wrestlers,  but  speedy 
runners,  and  the  best  of  seamen ;  and  dear  to  us  ever  is  the 
banquet,  and  the  harp,  and  the  dance,  and  changes  of 
raiment,  and  the  warm  bath,  and  love,  and  sleep.  Lo, 
now  arise,  ye  dancers  of  the  Phaeacians,  the  best  in  the  land, 
and  make  sport,  that  so  the  stranger  may  tell  his  friends, 
when  he  returneth  home,  how  far  we  surpass  all  men 
besides  in  seamanship,  and  speed  of  foot,  and  in  the  dance 
and  song.  And  let  one  go  quickly,  and  fetch  for  De- 
modocus  the  loud  lyre  which  is  lying  somewhere  in  our 
halls.' 

So  spake  Alcinous  the  godlike,  and  the  henchman  rose  to 
bear  the  hollow  lyre  from  the  king's  palace.  Then  stood  up 
nine  chosen  men  in  all,  the  judges  of  the  people,  who  were 
wont  to  order  all  things  in  the  lists  aright.  So  they  levelled 
the  place  for  the  dance,  and  made  a  fair  ring  and  a  wide. 
And  the  henchman  drew  near  bearing  the  loud  lyre  to 
Demodocus,  who  gat  him  into  the  midst,  and  round  him 
stood  boys  in  their  first  bloom,  skilled  in  the  dance,  and 
they  smote  the  good  floor  with  their  feet.  And  Odysseus 
gazed  at  the  twinklings  of  the  feet,  and  marvelled  in 
spirit. 

Now  as  the  minstrel  touched  the  lyre,  he  lifted  up  his 
voice  in  sweet  song,  and  he  sang  of  the  love  of  Areg.  and  Aph- 
rodite, of  the  fair  crown,  how  at  the  first  they  lay  together  in 
the  house  of  Hephaestus  privily ;  and  Ares  gave  her  many 
gifts,  and  dishonoured  the  marriage  bed  of  the  lord  Heph- 
aestus. And  anon  there  came  to  him  one  to  report  the  thing, 
even  Helios,  that  had  seen  them  at  their  pastime.  Now 
when  Hephaestus  heard  the  bitter  tidings,  he  went  his  way 
to  the  forge,  devising  evil  in  the  deep  of  his  heart,  and  set 


124  ODYSSEY  VIII,  274-305. 

the  great  anvil  on  the  stithy,  and  wrought  fetters  that  none 
might  snap  or  loosen,  that  the  lovers  might  there  unmove- 
ably  remain.  Now  when  he  had  forged  the  crafty  net  in  "his 
anger  against  Ares,  he  went  on  his  way  to  the  chamber  where 
his  marriage  bed  was  set  out,  and  strewed  his  snares  all  about 
the  posts  of  the  bed,  and  many  too  were  hung  aloft  from  the 
main  beam,  subtle  as  spiders'  webs,  so  that  none  might  see 
them,  even  of  the  blessed  gods:  so  cunningly  were  they  forged. 
Now  after  he  had  done  winding  the  snare  about  the  bed,  he 
made  as  though  he  would  go  to  Lemnos,  that  stablished 
castle,  and  this  was  far  the  dearest  of  all  lands  in  his  sight. 
But  Ares  of  the  golden  rein  kept  no  blind  watch,  what 
time  he  saw  Hephaestus,  the  famed  craftsman,  depart  afar. 
So  he  went  on  his  way  to  the  house  of  renowned  Hephaestus, 
eager  for  the  love  of  crowned  Cytherea.  Now  she  was  but 
newly  come  from  her  sire,  the  mighty  Cronion,  and  as  it 
chanced  had  sat  her  down;  and  Ares  entered  the  house, 
and  clasped  her  hand,  and  spake,  and  hailed  her ; 

*  Come,  my  beloved,  let  us  to  bed,  and  take  our  pleasure 
of  love,  for  Hephaestus  is  no  longer  among  his  own  people ; 
methinks  he  is  already  gone  to  Lemnos,  to  the  Sintians,  men 
of  savage  speech.' 

So  spake  he,  and  a  glad  thing  it  seemed  to  her  to  lie  with 
him.  So  they  twain  went  to  the  couch,  and  laid  them  to 
sleep,  and  around  them  clung  the  cunning  bonds  of  skilled 
Hephaestus,  so  that  they  could  not  move  nor  raise  a  Hmb. 
Then  at  the  last  they  knew  it,  when  there  was  no  way  to  flee. 
Now  the  famous  god  of  the  strong  arms  drew  near  to  them, 
having  turned  him  back  ere  he  reached  the  land  of  Lemnos. 
For  Helios  had  kept  watch,  and  told  him  all.  So  heavy 
at  heart  he  went  his  way  to  his  house,  and  stood  at  the 
entering  in  of  the  gate,  and  wild  rage  gat  hold  of  him,  and 
he  cried  terribly,  and  shouted  to  all  the  gods : 


ODYSSEY  VIII,  306-337.  125 

*  Father  Zeus,  and  ye  other  blessed  gods,  that  live  for  ever, 
come  hither,  that  ye  may  see  a  mirthful  thing  and  a  cruel, 
for  that  Aphrodite,  daughter  of  Zeus,  ever  dishonours  me 
by  reason  of  my  lameness,  and  sets  her  heart  on  Ares  the 
destroyer,  because  he  is  fair  and  straight  of  limb,  but  as  for 
me,  feeble  was  I  born.  Howbeit,  there  is  none  to  blame  but 
my  father  and  mother, — would  they  had  never  begotten  me ! 
But  now  shall  ye  see. where  these  have  gone  up  iato  my  bed, 
and  sleep  together  in  love ;  and  I  am  troubled  at  the  sight.  Yet, 
methinks,  they  will  not  care  to  lie  thus  even  for  a  little  while 
longer,  despite  their  great  love.  Soon  will  they  have  no  desire 
to  sleep  together,  but  the  snare  and  the  bond  shall  hold  them, 
till  her  sire  give  back  to  me  the  gifts  of  wooing,  one  and  all, 
those  that  I  bestowed  upon  him  for  the  hand  of  his  shameless 
girl ;  for  that  his  daughter  is  fair,  but  without  discretion.' 

So  spake  he ;  and  lo,  the  gods  gathered  together  to  the 
house  of  the  brazen  floor.  Poseidon  came,  the  girdler  of  the 
earth,  and  Hermes  came,  the  bringer  of  luck,  and  prince 
Apollo  came,  the  archer.  But  the  lady  goddesses  abode 
each  within  her  house  for  shame.  So  the  gods,  the  givers 
of  good  things,  stood  in  the  porch :  and  laughter  unquench- 
able arose  among  the  blessed  gods,  as  they  beheld  the  sleight 
of  cunning  Hephaestus.  And  thus  would  one  speak,  looking 
to  his  neighbour : 

*  111  deed,  ill  speed !  The  slow  catcheth  the  swift !  Lo, 
how  Hephaestus,  slow  as  he  is,  hath  overtaken  Ares,  albeit 
he  is  the  swiftest  of  the  gods  that  hold  Olympus,  by  his  craft 
hath  he  taken  him  despite  his  lameness ;  wherefore  surely  Ares 
oweth  the  fine  of  the  adulterer.'  Thus  they  spake  one  to  the 
other.   But  the  lord  Apollo,  son  of  Zeus,  spake  to  Hermes : 

*  Hermes,  son  of  Zeus,  messenger  and  giver  of  good  things, 
wouldst  thou  be  fain,  aye,  pressed  by  strong  bonds  though 
it  might  be,  t:i  lie  on  the  couch  by  golden  Aphrodite  ?  * 


126  onvssEV  VIII,  338-357. 

Then  the  messenger,  the  slayer  of  Argos,  answered  him  : 
'  I  would  that  this  might  be,  Apollo,  my  prince  of  archery ! 
So  might  thrice  as  many  bonds  innumerable  encompass  me 
about,  and  all  ye  gods  be  looking  on  and  all  the  goddesses, 
yet  would  I  lie  by  golden  Aphrodite.' 

So  spake  he,  and  laughter  rose  among  the  deathless  gods. 
Howbeit  Poseidon  laughed  not,  but  was  instant  with 
Hephaestus,  the  renowned  artificer,  to  loose  the  bonds  of 
Ares:  and  he  uttered  his  voice,  and  spake  to  him  winged 
words : 

'Loose  him,  I  pray  thee,  and  I  promise  even  as  thou 
biddest  me,  that  he  shall  himself  pay  all  fair  forfeit  in  the 
presence  of  the  deathless  gods.* 

Then  the  famous  god  of  the  strong  arms  answered  him : 

*  Require  not  this  of  me,  Poseidon,  girdler  of  the  earth. 
Evil  are  evil  folk's  pledges  to  hold.  How  could  I  keep  thee 
bound  among  the  deathless  gods,  if  Ares  were  to  depart, 
avoiding  the  debt  and  the  bond  ? ' 

Then   Poseidon    answered    him,   shaker  of   the    earth: 
'Hephaestus,  even  if  Ares  avoid  the  debt  and  flee  away,/j  > 
I  myself  will  pay  thee  all.*  OvJr^ 

Then  the  famous  god  of  the  strong  arms  answered  him :  n,  aJj^ 

*  It  may  not  be  that  I  should  say  thee  nay,  neither  is  it     .  ^^ 
meet.'  c^  ^ 

Therewith  the  mighty  Hephaestus  loosed  the  bonds,  and  ,.  ^^ 
the  twain,  when  they  were  freed  from  that  strong  bond,  ]jji^ 
sprang  up  straightway,  and  departed,  he  to  Thrace,  but 
laughter-loving  Aphrodite  went  to  Paphos  of  Cyprus,  where 
is  her  precinct  and  fragrant  altar.  There  the  Graces  bathed 
and  anointed  her  with  oil  imperishable,  such  as  is  laid 
upon  the  everlasting  gods.  And  they  clad  her  in  lovely 
raiment,  a  wonder  to  see. 

This   was    the    song    the    famous    minstrel    sang;    and 


ODYSSEY  VIIT,  368-399.  1 27 

Odysseus  listened  and  was  glad  at  heart,  and  likewise  did 
the  Phaeacians,  of  the  long  oars,  those  mariners  renowned. 

Then  Alcinous  bade  Halius  and  Laodamas  dance  alone, 
for  none  ever  contended  with  them.  So  when  they  had 
taken  in  their  hands  the  goodly  ball  of  purple  hue,  that 
cunning  Polybus  had  wrought  for  them,  the  one  would 
bend  backwards,  and  throw  it  towards  the  shadowy  clouds ; 
and  the  other  would  leap  upward  from  the  earth,  and 
catch  it  lightly  in  his  turn,  before  his  feet  touched  the 
ground.  Now  after  they  had  made  trial  of  throwing  the 
ball  straight  up,  the  twain  set  to  dance  upon  the  bounteous 
earth,  tossing  the  ball  from  hand  to  hand,  and  the  other 
youths  stood  by  the  lists  and  beat  time,  and  a  great  din 
uprose. 

Then  it  was  that  goodly  Odysseus  spake  unto  Alcinous : 
'  My  lord  Alcinous,  most  notable  among  all  the  people,  thou 
didst  boast  thy  dancers  to  be  the  best  in  the  world,  and 
lo,  thy  words  are  fulfilled ;  I  wonder  as  I  look  on  them.' 

So  spake  he,  and  the  mighty  king  Alcinous  rejoiced  and 
spake  at  once  among  the  Phaeacians,  masters  of  the  oar : 

'  Hearken  ye,  captains  and  counsellors  of  the  Phaeacians, 
this  stranger  seems  to  me  a  wise  man  enough.  Come  then, 
let  us  give  him  a  stranger's  gift,  as  is  meet.  Behold,  there 
are  twelve  glorious  princes  who  rule  among  this  people  and 
bear  sway,  and  1  myself  am  the  thirteenth.  Now  each  man 
among  you  bring  a  fresh  robe  and  a  doublet,  and  a  talent  of 
fine  gold,  and  let  us  speedily  carry  all  these  gifts  together, 
that  the  stranger  may  take  them  in  his  hands,  and  go  to 
supper  with  a  glad  heart.  As  for  Euryalus  let  him  yield 
amends  to  the  man  himself  with  soft  speech  and  with  a  gift, 
for  his  was  no  gentle  saying,' 

So  spake  he,  and  they  all  assented  thereto,  and  would 
have  it  so.     And   each  one   sent  forth  his  henchman  to 


128  ODVSSEV  V/II,  399-430. 

fetch  his  gift,  and  Euryalus  answered  the  king  and  spake, 
saying  : 

'  My  lord  Alcinous,  most  notable  among  all  the  people,  I 
will  make  atonement  to  thy  guest  according  to  thy  word.  I 
will  give  him  a  hanger  all  of  bronze,  with  a  silver  hilt  thereto, 
and  a  sheath  of  fresh-sawn  ;vory  covers  it  about,  and  it  shall 
be  to  him  a  thing  of  price/ 

Therewith  he  puts  into  his  hands  the  hanger  dight  with 
silver,  and  uttering  his  voice  spake  to  him  winged  words : 

*  Hail,  stranger  and  father ;  and  if  aught  grievous  hath  been 
spoken,  may  the  storm-winds  soon  snatch  and  bear  it  away. 
But  may  the  gods  grant  thee  to  see  thy  wife  and  to  come  to 
thine  own  country,  for  all  too  long  hast  thou  endured  afflic- 
tion away  from  thy  friends.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying: 

*  Thou  too,  my  friend,  all  hail ;  and  may  the  gods  vouchsafe 
thee  happiness,  and  mayst  thou  never  miss  this  sword  which 
thou  hast  given  me,  thou  that  with  soft  speech  hast  yielded 
me  amends.' 

He  spake  and  hung  about  his  shoulders  the  silver-studded 
sword.  And  the  sun  sank,  and  the  noble  gifts  were  brought 
him.  Then  the  proud  henchmen  bare  them  to  the  palace  of 
Alcinous,  and  the  sons  of  noble  Alcinous  took  the  fair  gifts, 
and  set  them  by  their  reverend  mother.  And  the  mighty  king 
Alcinous  led  the  way,  and  they  came  in  and  sat  them  down  on 
the  high  seats.    And  the  mighty  Alcinous  spake  unto  Arete : 

*  Bring  me  hither,  my  lady,  a  choice  coffer,  the  best  thou 
hast,  and  thyself  place  therein  a  fresh  robe  and  a  doublet, 
and  heat  for  our  guest  a  cauldron  on  the  fire,  and  warm 
water,  that  after  the  bath  the  stranger  may  see  all  the  gifts 
duly  arrayed  which  the  noble  Phaeacians  bare  hither,  and 
that  he  may  have  joy  in  the  feast,  and  in  hearing  the  song  of 
the  minstrelsy.     Also  I  will  give   him  a  beautiful   golden 


ODYSSEY  VIII,  430-460.  129 

chalice  of  mine  own,  that  he  may  be  mindful  of  me  all  the 
days  of  his  life  when  he  poureth  the  drink-offering  to  Zeus 
and  to  the  other  gods.' 

So  spake  he,  and  Arete  bade  her  handmaids  to  set 
a  great  cauldron  on  the  fire  with  what  speed  they  might. 
And  they  set  the  cauldron  for  the  filling  of  the  bath 
on  the  blazing  fire,  and  poured  water  therein,  and  took 
faggots  and  kindled  them  beneath.  So  the  fire  began  to 
circle  round  the  belly  of  the  cauldron,  and  the  water  waxed 
hot.  Meanwhile  Arete  brought  forth  for  her  guest  the 
beautiful  coff'er  from  the  treasure  chamber,  and  bestowed 
fair  gifts  therein,  raiment  and  gold,  which  the  Phaeacians 
gave  him.  And  with  her  own  hands  she  placed  therein  a 
robe  and  goodly  doublet,  and  uttering  her  voice  spake  to 
him  winged  words : 

'  Do  thou  now  look  to  the  lid,  and  quickly  tie  the  knot, 
lest  any  man  spoil  thy  goods  by  the  way,  when  presently 
thou  fallest  on  sweet  sleep  travelling  in  thy  black  ship.' 

Now  when  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  heard  this  say- 
ing, forthwith  he  fixed  on  the  lid,  and  quickly  tied  the  curious 
knot,  which  the  lady  Circe  on  a  time  had  taught  him.  Then 
straightway  the  housewife  bade  him  go  to  the  bath  and  bathe 
.him ;  and  he  saw  the  warm  water  and  was  glad,  for  he  was 
not  wont  to  be  so  cared  for,  from  the  day  that  he  left  the 
house  of  fair-tressed  Calypso,  but  all  that  while  he  had  com- 
fort continually  as  a  god. 

Now  after  the  maids  had  bathed  him  and  anointed  him 
with  olive  oil,  and  had  cast  a  fair  mantle  and  a  doublet  upon 
him,  he  stept  forth  from  the  bath,  and  went  to  be  with  the 
chiefs  at  their  wine.  And  Nausicaa,  dowered  with  beauty 
by  the  gods,  stood  by  the  doorpost  of  the  well-builded  hall^ 
and  marvelled  at  Odysseus,  beholding  him  before  her  eyes, 
and  she  uttered  her  voice  and  spake  to  him  winged  words: 

K 


130  ODVSSEV  VIII,  461-490. 

'Farewell,  stranger,  and  even  in  thine  own  country  be- 
think thee  of  me  upon  a  time,  for  that  to  me  first  thou  owest 
the  ransom  of  life/ 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying: 
'  Nausicaa,  daughter  of  great-hearted  Alcinous,  yea,  may 
Zeus,  the  thunderer,  the  lord  of  Here,  grant  me  to  reach 
my  home  and  see  the  day  of  my  returning ;  so  would  I,  even 
there,  do  thee  worship  as  to  a  god,  all  my  days  for  ever- 
more, for  thou,  lady,  hast  given  me  my  life.' 

He  spake  and  sat  him  in  the  high  seat  by  king  Alcinous. 
And  now  they  were  serving  out  the  portions  and  mixing  the 
wine.  Then  the  henchman  drew  nigh  leading  the  sweet 
minstrel,  Demodocus,  that  was  had  in  honour  of  the  people. 
So  he  set  him  in  the  midst  of  the  feasters,  and  made  him 
lean  against  a  tall  column.  Then  to  the  henchman  spake 
Odysseus  of  many  counsels,  for  he  had  cut  off  a  portion  of 
the  chine  of  a  white-toothed  boar,  whereon  yet  more  was 
left,  with  rich  fat  on  either  side : 

'  Lo,  henchman,  take  this  mess,  and  hand  it  to  Demo- 
docus, that  he  may  eat,  and  I  will  bid  him  hail,  despite  my 
sorrow.  For  minstrels  from  all  men  on  earth  get  their  meed 
of  honour  and  worship ;  inasmuch  as  the  muse  teacheth 
them  the  paths  of  song,  and  loveth  the  tribe  of  minstrels.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  the  henchman  bare  the  -mess,  and  set 
it  upon  the  knees  of  the  lord  Demodocus,  and  he  took  it, 
and  was  glad  at  heart.  Then  they  stretched  forth  their  hands 
upon  the  good  cheer  set  before  them.  Now  after  they  had 
put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and  drink,  then  Odysseus 
of  many  counsels  spake  to  Demodocus,  saying : 

'  Demodocus,  I  praise  thee  far  above  all  mortal  men, 
whether  it  be  the  Muse,  the  daughter  of  Zeus,  that  taught 
thee,  or  even  Apollo,  for  right  duly  dost  thou  chant  the  faring 
of  the  Achaeans,  even  all  that  they  wrought  and  suffered. 


ODYSSEY  VIII,  491-521.  131 

and  all  their  travail,  as  if,  methinks,  thou  hadst  been  present, 
or  heard  the  tale  from  another.  Come  now,  change  thy 
strain,  and  sing  of  the  fashioning  of  the  horse  of  wood,  which 
Epeius  made  by  the  aid  of  Athene,  even  the  guileful  thing,  1 
that  goodly  Odysseus  led  up  into  the  citadel,  when  he  had  J 
laden  it  with  the  men  who  wasted  Ilios.  If  thou  wilt  indeed 
rehearse  me  this  aright,  so  will  I  be  thy  witness  among  all 
men,  how  the  god  of  his  grace  hath  given  thee  the  gift  of 
wondrous  song/ 

So  spake  he,  and  the  minstrel,  being  stirred  by  the  god, 
began  and  showed  forth  his  minstrelsy.    He  took  up  the  tale 
where  it  tells  how  the  Argives  of  the  one  part  set  fire  to  their 
huts,  and  went  aboard  their  decked  ships  and  sailed  away, 
while  those  others,  the  fellowship  of  renowned  Odysseus,  were 
now  seated  in  the  assembly-place  of  the  Trojans,  all  hidden  in 
the  horse,  for  the  Trojans  themselves  had  dragged  him  to  the  /uSlt.^'^C-Cy-^ 
citadel.     So  the  horse  stood  there,  while  seated  all  around  '^-^^^  (Q  (^a^ 
him  the  people  spake  many  things  confusedly  and  three  ways  V^  «v^^*M*«^ 
their  counsel  looked;  either  to  cleave  the  hollow  timber  with  }i-^Lt^^  .-^/i 
the  pitiless  spear,  or  to  drag  it  to  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and  ^c^x^-n  ^^ 
hurl  it  from  the  rocks,  or  to  leave  it  as  a  mighty  offering  to 
appease  the  gods.     And  on  this  wise  it  was  to  be  at  the  last. 
For  the  doom  was  on  them  to  perish  when  their  city  should 
have  closed  upon  the  great  horse  of  wood,  wherein  sat  all 
the  bravest  of  the  Argives,  bearing  to  the  Trojans  death  and 
destiny.    And  he  sang  how  the  sons  of  the  Achaeans  poured  \ 
forth  from  the  horse,  and  left  the  hollow  lair,  and  sacked  the^' 
burg.     And  he  sang  how  and  where  each  man  wasted  the 
town,  and  of  Odysseus,  how  he  went  like  Ares  to  the  house 
of  Deiphobus  with  godlike  Menelaus.     It  was  there,  he  said, 
that  Odysseus  adventured  the  most  grievous  battle,  and  in 
the  end  prevailed,  by  grace  of  great-hearted  Athene. 

This  was  the  song  that  the  famous  minstrel  sang.     But 

K   2 


} 


ODYSSEY  VIII,  521-553. 


the  heart  of  Odysseus  melted,  and  the  tear  wet  his  cheeks 
beneath  the  eyelids.  And  as  a  woman  throws  herself 
wailing  about  her  dear  lord,  who  hath  fallen  before  his 
city  and  the  host,  warding  from  his  town  and  his  children 
the  pitiless  day ;  and  she  beholds  him  dying  and  drawing 
difficult  breath,  and  embracing  his  body  wails  aloud,  while 
the  foemen  behind  smite  her  with  spears  on  back  and 
shoulders  and  lead  her  up  into  bondage,  to  bear  labour 
and  trouble,  and  with  the  most  pitiful  grief  her  cheeks  are 
wasted;  even  so  pitifully  fell  the  tears  beneath  the  brows 
of  Odysseus.  Now  none  of  all  the  company  marked  him 
weeping  ;  but  Alcinous  alone  noted  it,  and  was  ware  thereof, 
as  he  sat  nigh  him  and  heard  him  groaning  heavily.  And 
presently  he  spake  among  the  PhaeaCians,  masters  of 
the  oar : 

*  Hearken,  ye  captains  and  counsellors  of  the  Phaeacians, 
and  now  let  Demodocus  hold  his  hand  from  the  loud  lyre,  for 
this  song  of  his  is  nowise  pleasing  alike  to  all.  From  the  time 
that  we  began  to  sup,  and  that  the  divine  minstrel  was  moved 
to  sing,  ever  since  hath  yonder  stranger  never  ceased  from 
woeful  lamentation  :  sore  grief,  methinks,  hath  encompassed 
his  heart.  Nay,  but  let  the  minstrel  cease,  that  we  may  all 
alike  make  merry,  hosts  and  guest,  since  it  is  far  meeter  so. 
For  all  these  things  are  ready  for  the  sake  of  the  honourable 
stranger,  even  the  convoy  and  the  loving  gifts  which  we  give 
him  out  of  our  love.  In  a  brother's  place  stand  the  stranger 
and  the  suppliant,  to  him  whose  wits  have  even  a  litde  range. 
Wherefore  do  thou  too  hide  not  now  with  crafty  purpose 
aught  whereof  I  ask  thee ;  it  were  more  meet  for  thee  to  tell 
it  out.  Say,  what  is  the  name  whereby  they  called  thee  at  home, 
even  thy  father  and  thy  mother,  and  others  thy  townsmen  and 
the  dwellers  round  about  ?  For  there  is  none  of  all  mankind 
nameless,  neither  the  mean  man  nor  yet  the  noble,  from  the 


ODYSSEY  VIII,  S53-S^^'  133 

first  hour  of  his  birth,  but  parents  bestow  a  name  on  every 
man  so  soon  as  he  is  born.  Tell  me  too  of  thy  land,  thy 
township,  and  thy  city,  that  our  ships  may  conceive  of  their 
course  to  bring  thee  thither.  For  the  Phaeacians  have  no 
pilots  nor  any  rudders  after  the  manner  of  other  ships,  but 
their  barques"  themselves  understand  the  thoughts  and  intents 
of  men ;  they  know  the  cities  and  fat  fields  of  every  people, 
and  most  swiftly  they  traverse  the  gulf  of  the  salt  sea,  shrouded 
in  mist  and  cloud,  and  never  do  they  go  in  fear  of  wreck  or 
ruin.  Howbeit  I  heard  upon  a  time  this  word  thus  spoken 
by  my  father  Nausithous,  who  was  wont  to  say  that  Poseidon 
was  jealous  of  us  for  that  we  give  safe  escort  to  all  men. 
He  said  that  the  god  would  some  day  smite  a  well-wrought 
ship  of  the  Phaeacians  as  she  came  home  from  a  convoy  over 
the  misty  deep,  and  would  overshadow  our  city  with  a  great 
mountain.  Thus  that  ancient  one  would  speak,  and  thus 
the  god  may  bring  it  about,  or  leave  it  undone,  according  to 
the  good  pleasure  of  his  will.  But  come  now,  declare  me 
this  and  plainly  tell  it  all ;  whither  wast  thou  borne  wander- 
ing, and  to  what  shores  of  men  thou  camest ;  tell  me  of  the 
people  and  of  their  fair-lying  cities,  of  those  whoso  are  hard 
and  wild  and  unjust,  and  of  those  likewise  who  are  hospit- 
able and  of  a  god-fearing  mind.  Declare,  too,  wherefore 
thou  dost  weep  and  mourn  in  spirit  at  the  tale  of  the  faring 
of  the  Argive  Danaans  and  the  lay  of  Ilios.  All  this  the  gods 
have  fashioned,  and  have  woven  the  skein  of  death  for  men, 
that  there  might  be  a  song  in  the  ears  even  of  the  folk  of 
aftertime.  Hadst  thou  even  a  kinsman  by  marriage  that  fell 
before  Ilios,  a  true  man,  a  daughter's  husband  or  wife's 
father,  such  as  are  nearest  us  after  those  of  our  own  stock 
and  blood?  Or  else,  may  be,  some  loving  friend,  a  good 
man  and  true;  for  a  friend  with  an  understanding  heart  is 
no  whit  worse  than  a  brother.' 


I  Ut^^^^^  ^^/tfi*^ 


BOOK  IX. 

Od)rsseus  relates,  first,  what  befell  him  amongst  the  Cicones  at  Tsmarus; 
secondly,  amongst  the  Lotophagi ;  thirdly,  how  he  was  used  by  the  Cyclops 
Polyphemus, 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying: 
'King  Alcinous,  most  notable  of  all  the  people,  verily  it  is 
a  good  thing  to  list  to  a  minstrel  such  as  this  one,  like  to  the 
gods  in  voice.  Nay,  as  for  me,  I  say  that  there  is  no  more 
gracious  or  perfect  delight  than  when  a  whole  people  makes 
merry,  and  the  men  sit  orderly  at  feast  in  the  halls  and 
listen  to  the  singer,  and  the  tables  by  them  are  laden  with 
bread  and  flesh,  and  a  wine-bearer  drawing  the  wine  serves 
it  round  and  pours  it  into  the  cups.  This  fashion  seems  to 
me  the  fairest  thing  in  the  world.  But  now  thy  heart  was 
inclined  to  ask  of  my  grievous  troubles,  that  I  may  mourn  for 
more  exceeding  sorrow.  What  then  shall  I  tell  of  first,  what 
last,  for  the  gods  of  heaven  have  given  me  woes  in  plenty  ? 
Now,  first,  will  I  tell  my  name,  that  ye  too  may  know  it,  and 
that  I,  when  I  have  escaped  the  pitiless  day,  may  yet  be  your 
host,  though  my  home  is  in  a  far  country.  I  am  Odysseus, 
SON  OF  Laertes,  who  am  in  men's  minds  for  all  manner  of 
wiles,  and  my  fame  reaches  unto  heaven.  And  I  dwell  in 
clear-seen  Ithaca,  wherein  is  a  mountain  Neriton,  with  trem- 
bling forest  leaves,  standing  manifest  to  view,  and  many 
islands  lie  around,  very  near  one  to  the  other,  Dulic?^ium  and 
Same,  and  wooded  Zacynthus.  Now  Ithaca  lies  low,  furthest 
up  the  sea-line  toward  the  darkness,  but  those  others  face 


ODYSSEY  TX,  26-57.  135 

the  dawning  and  the  sun  :  a  rugged  isle,  but  a' good  nurse  of 
noble  youths;  and  for  myself  I  can  see  nought  beside  sweeter 
than  a  man's  own  country.  Verily  Calypso,  the  fair  goddess, 
would  fain  have  kept  me  with  her  in  her  hollow  caves, 
longing  to  have  me  for  her  lord ;  and  likewise  too,  guileful 
Circe  of  Aia,  would  have  stayed  me  in  her  halls,  longing  to 
have  me  for  her  lord.  But  never  did  they  prevail  upon  my 
heart  within  my  breast.  So  surely  is  there  nought  sweeter 
than  a  man's  own  country  and  his  parents,  even  though  he 
dwell  far  off  in  a  rich  home,  in  a  strange  land^  away  from 
them  that  begat  him.  But  come,  let  me  tell  thee  too  of  the 
troubles  of  my  journeying,  which  Zeus  laid  on  me  as  I  came 
from  Troy. 

'  The  wind  that  bare  me  from  Ilios  brought  me  nigh  to 
the  Cicones,  even  to  Ismarus,  whereupon  I  sacked  their  city 
and  slew  the  people.  And  from  out  the  city  we  took  their 
wives  and  much  substance,  and  divided  them  amongst  us,  that 
none  through  me  might  go  lacking  his  proper  share.  Howr 
belt,  thereafter  I  commanded  that  we  should  flee  with  a  swift 
foot,  but  my  men  in  their  great  folly  hearkened  not.  There 
was  much  wine  still  a  drinking,  and  still  they  slew  many 
flocks  of  sheep  by  the  seashore  and  kine  with  trailing  feet  and 
shambling  gait.  Meanwhile  the  Cicones  went  and  raised  a 
cry  to  other  Cicones  their  neighbours,  dwelling  inland,  who 
were  more  in  number  than  they  and  braver  withal :  skilled  they 
were  to  fight  with  men  from  chariots,  and  when  need  was  on 
foot.  So  they  gathered  in  the  early  morning  as  thick  as  leaves 
and  flowers  that  spring  in  their  season — yea  and  in  that  hour 
an  evil  doom  of  Zeus  stood  by  us,  ill-fated  men,  that  so  we 
might  be  sore  afflicted.  They  set  their  battle  in  array  by  the 
swift  ships,  and  the  Losts  cast  at  one  another  with  their 
bronze-shod  spears.  So  long  as  it  was  morn  and  the  sacred 
day  waxed  stronger,  so  long  we  abode  their  assault  and  beat 


136  ODVSSEV  IX,  57-90. 

them  off,  albeit  they  outnumbered  us.  But  when  the  sun 
was  wending  to  the  time  of  the  loosing  of  cattle,  then  at  last 
the  Cicones  drave  in  the  Achaeans  and  overcame  them,  and 
six  of  my  goodly -greaved  company  parished  from  each  ship : 
but  the  remnant  of  us  escaped  death  and  destiny. 

*  Thence  we  sailed  onward  stricken  at  heart,  yet  glad  as  men 
saved  from  death,  albeit  we  had  lost  our  dear  companions. 
Nor  did  my  curved  ships  move  onward  ere  we  had 
called  thrice  on  each  of  those  our  hapless  fellows,  who  died 
at  the  hands  of  the  Cicones  on  the  plain.  Now  Zeus, 
gatherer  of*  the  clouds,  aroused  the  North  Wind  against  our 
ships  with  a  terrible  tempest,  and  covered  land  and  sea 
alike  with  clouds,  and  down  sped  night  from  heaven.  Thus 
the  ships  were  driven  headlong,  and  their  sails  were  torn  to 
shreds  by  the  might  of  the  wind.  So  we  lowered  the  sails 
into  the  hold,  in  fear  of  death,  but  rowed  the  ships  landward 
apace.  There  for  two  nights  and  two  days  we  lay  con- 
l'  -'  tinually,  consuming  our  hearts  with  weariness  and  sorrow. 
But  when  the  fair-tressed  Dawn  had  at  last  brought  the  full 
light  of  the  third  day,  we  set  up  the  masts  and  hoisted  the 
white  sails  and  sat  us  down,  while  the  wind  and  the  helmsman 
guided  the  ships.  And  now  I  should  have  come  to  mine 
own  country  all  unhurt,  but  the  wave  and  the  stream  of  the 
sea  and  the  North  Wind  swept  me  from  my  course  as  I  was 
doubling  Malea,  and  drave  me  wandering  past  Cythera. 

'Thence  for  nine  whole  days  was  I  borne  by  ruinous 
winds  over  the  teeming  deep ;  but  on  the  tenth  day  we  set 
foot  on  the  land  of  the  lotus-eaters,  who  eat  a  flowery  food. 
So  we  stepped  ashore  and  drew  water,  and  straightway  my 
company  took  their  midday  meal  by  the  swift  ships.  Now 
when  we  had  tasted  meat  and  drink  I  sent  forth  certain  of  my 
company  to  go  and  make  search  what  manner  of  men  they 
were  who  here  live  upon  the  earth  by  bread,  and  I  chose  out 


ODYSSEY  IX,  90-123.  137 

two  of  my  fellows,  and  sent  a  third  with  them  as  herald.  Then 
straightway  they  went  and  mixed  with  the  men  of  the  lotus- 
eaters,  and  so  it  was  that  the  lotus-eaters  devised  not  death  for 
our  fellows,  but  gave  them  of  the  lotus  to  taste.  Now  whoso- 
ever of  them  did  eat  the  honey-sweet  fruit  of  the  lotus,  had  no 
more  wish  to  bring  tidings  nor  to  come  back,  but  there  he 
chose  to  abide  with  the  lotus-eating  men,  ever  feeding  on  the 
lotus,  and  forgetful  of  his  homeward  way.  Therefore  I  led 
them  back  to  the  ships  weeping,  and  sore  against  their  will, 
and  dragged  them  beneath  the  benches,  and  bound  them  in 
the  hollow  barques.  But  I  commanded  the  rest  of  my  well-loved 
company  to  make  speed  and  go  on  board  the  swift  ships,  lest 
haply  any  should  eat  of  the  lotus  and  be  forgetful  of  returning. 
Right  soon  they  embarked  and  sat  upon  the  benches,  and 
sitting  orderly  they  smote  the  grey  sea  water  with  their  oars. 

*  Thence  we  sailed  onward  stricken  at  heart.  And  we 
came  to  the  land  of  the  Cyclopes,  a  froward  and  a  lawless 
folk,  who  trusting  to  the  deathless  gods  plant  not  aught  with 
their  hands,  neither  plough :  but,  behold,  all  these  things 
spring  for  them  in  plenty,  unsown  and  untilled,  wheat,  and 
barley,  and  vines,  which  bear  great  clusters  of  the  juice  of 
the  grape,  and  the  rain  of  Zeus  gives  them  increase.  These 
have  neither  gatherings  for  council  nor  oracles  of  law,  but 
they  dwell  in  hollow  caves  on  the  crests  of  the  high  hills, 
and  each  one  utters  the  law  to  his  children  and  his  wives, 
and  they  reck  not  one  of  another. 

*  Now  there  is  a  waste  isle  stretching  without  the  harbour 
of  the  land  of  the  Cyclopes,  neither  nigh  at  hand  nor  yet 
afar  off,  a  woodland  isle,  wherein  are  wild  goats  unnumbered, 
for  no  path  of  men  scares  them,  nor  do  hunters  resort  thither 
who  suffer  hardships  in  the  wood,  as  they  range  the  moun- 
tain crests.  Moreover  it  is  possessed  neither  by  flocks  nor 
by  ploughed  lands,  but  the  soil  lies  unsown  evermore  and 


138  ODYSSEY  IX,  124-157. 

untilled,  desolate  of  men,  and  feeds  the  bleating  goats.  '  For 
the  Cycl6pes  have  by  them  no  ships  with  vermilion  cheek, 
not  yet  are  there  shipwrights  in  the  island,  who  might  fashion 
decked  barques,  which  should  accomplish  all  theii  desire, 
voyaging  to  the  towns  of  men  (as  ofttimes  men  cross  the  sea 
to  one  another  in  ships),  who  might  likewise  have  made  of 
their  isle  a  goodly  settlement.  Yea,  it  is  in  no  wise  a  sorry 
land,  but  would  bear  all  things  in  their  season ;  for  therein 
are  soft  water-meadows  by  the  shores  of  the  grey  salt  sea, 
and  there  the  vines  know  no  decay,  and  the  land  is  level 
to  plough;  thence  might  they  reap  a  crop  exceeding  deep 
in  due  season,  for  verily  there  is  fatness  beneath  the  soil. 
Also  there  is  a  fair  haven,  where  is  no  need  of  moorings, 
either  to  cast  anchor  or  to  fasten  hawsers,  but  men  may  run 
the  ship  on  the  beach,  and  tarry  until  such  time  as  the  sailors 
are  minded  to  be  gone,  and  favourable  breezes  blow.  Now 
at  the  head  of  the  harbour  is  a  well  of  bright  water  issuing 
from  a  cave,  and  round  it  are  poplars  growing.  Thither  we 
sailed,  and  some  god  guided  us  through  the  night,  for  it  was 
dark  and  there  was  no  light  to  see,  a  mist  lying  deep  about 
the  ships,  nor  did  the  moon  show  her  light  from  heaven,  but 
was  shut  in  with  clouds.  No  man  then  beheld  that  island, 
neither  saw  we  the  long  waves  rolling  to  the  beach,  till 
we  had  run  our  decked  ships  ashore.  And  when  our  ships 
were  beached,  we  took  down  all  their  sails,  and  ourselves  too 
stept  forth  upon  the  strand  of  the  sea,  and  there  we  fell 
into  sound  sleep  and  waited  for  the  bright  Dawn. 

'  So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered,  in 
wonder  at  the  island  we  roamed  over  the  length  thereof: 
and  the  Nymphs,  the  daughters  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis, 
started  the  wild  goats  of  the  hills,  that  my  company  might 
have  wherewith  to  sup.  Anon  we  took  to  us  our  curved 
bows  from  out  the  ships  and  long  spears,  and  arrayed  in 


onvssEv  IX,  157-189.  139 

three  bands  we  began  shooting  at  the  goats ;  and  the  god 
soon  gave  us  game  in  plenty.  Now  twelve  ships  bare  me 
company,  and  to  each  ship  fell  nine  goats  for  a  portion,  but 
for  me  alone  they  set  ten  apart. 

*  Thus  we  sat  there  the  livelong  day  until  the  going  down 
of  the  sun,  feasting  on  abundant  flesh  and  on  sweet  wine. 
For  the  red  wine  was  not  yet  spent  from  out  the  ships,  but 
somewhat  was  yet  therein,  for  we  had  each  one  drawn  off  large 
store  thereof  in  jars,  when  we  took  the  sacred  citadel  of  the 
Cicones.  And  we  looked  across  to  the  land  of  the  Cyclopes 
who  dwell  nigh,  and  to  the  smoke,  and  to  the  voice  of  the 
men,  and  of  the  sheep  and  of  the  goats.  And  when  the 
sun  had  sunk  and  darkness  had  come  on,  then  we  laid  us 
to  rest  upon  the  sea-beach.  So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone 
forth,  the  rosy-fingered,  then  I  called  a  gathering  of  my 
men,  and  spake  among  them  all : 

*  *'  Abide  here  all  the  rest  of  you,  my  dear  companions ; 
but  I  will  go  with  mine  own  ship  and  my  ship's  company, 
and  make  proof  of  these  men,  what  manner  of  folk  they 
are,  whether  froward,  and  wild,  and  unjust,  or  hospitable 
and  of  god-fearing  mind." 

'  So  I  spake,  and  I  climbed  the  ship's  side,  and  bade  my 
company  themselves  to  mount,  and  to  loose  the  hawsers. 
So  they  soon  embarked  and  sat  upon  the  benches,  and 
sitting  orderly  smote  the  grey  sea  water  with  their  oars. 
Now  when  we  had  come  to  the  land  that  lies  hard  by,  we 
saw  a  cave  on  the  border  near  to  the  sea,  lofty  and  roofed 
over  with  laurels,  and  there  many  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats 
were  used  to  rest.  And  about  it  a  high  outer  court  was  built 
with  stones,  deep  bedded,  and  with  tall  pines  and  oaks  with 
their  high  crown  of  leaves.  And  a  man  was  wont  to  sleep 
therein,  of  monstrous  size,  who  shepherded  his  flocks  alone 
and  afar,  and  was  not  conversant  with  others,  but  dwelt 


I40.  ODYSSEY  IX,  189-22I. 

apart  in  lawlessness  of  mind.  Yea,  for  he  was  a  monstrous 
thing  and  fashioned  marvellously,  nor  was  he  like  to  any 
man  that  lives  by  bread,  but  like  a  wooded  peak  of  the 
towering  hills,  which  stands  out  apart  and  alone  from  others. 

*  Then  I  commanded  the  rest  of  my  well-loved  company 
to  tarry  there  by  the  ship,  and  to  guard  the  ship,  but  I  chose 
out  twelve  men,  the  best  of  my  company,  and  sallied  forth. 
Now  I  had  with  me  a  goat-skin  of  the  dark  wine  and  sweet, 
which  Maron,  son  of  Euanthes,  had  given  me,  the  priest  of 
Apollo,  the  god  that  watched  over  Ismarus.  And  he  gave  it, 
for  that  we  had  protected  him  with  his  wife  and  child 
reverently;  for  he  dwelt  in  a  thick  grove  of  Phoebus 
Apollo.  And  he  made  me  splendid  gifts;- he  gave  me  seven 
talents  of  gold  well  wrought,  and  he  gave  me  a  mixing  bowl 
of  pure  silver,  and  furthermore  wine  which  he  drew  off  in 
twelve  jars  in  all,  sweet  wine  unmingled,  a  draught  divine; 
nor  did  any  of  his  servants  or  of  his  handmaids  in  the  house 
know  thereof,  but  himself  and  his  dear  wife  and  one  house- 
dame  only.  And  as  often  as  they  drank  that  red  wine  honey 
sweet,  he  would  fill  one  cup  and  pour  it  into  twenty  measures 
of  water,  and  a  marvellous  sweet  smell  went  up  from  the 
mixing  bowl :  then  truly  it  was  no  pleasure  to  refrain. 

'  With  this  wine  I  filled  a  great  skin,  and  bare  it  with 
me,  and  corn  too  I  put  in  a  wallet,  for  my  lordly  spirit 
straightway  had  a  boding  that  a  man  would  come  to  me, 
a  strange  man,  clothed  in  mighty  strength,  one  that  knew 
not  judgment  and  justice  *. 

*  Soon  we  came  to  the  cave,  but  we  found  him  not 
within;  he  was  shepherding  his  fat  flocks  in  the  pastures. 
So  we  went  into  the  cave,  and  gazed  on  all  that  was  therein. 
The  baskets  were  well  laden  with  cheeses,  and  the  folds  were 
thronged  with  lambs  and  kids;   each  kind  was  penned  by 

♦  Literally,  knowing  neither  dooms,  nor  ordinances  of  law. 


ODVSSEV  IX,  221-251.  141 

itself,  the  firstlings  apart,  and  the  summer  lambs  apart,  apart 
too  the  younglings  of  the  flock.  Now  all  the  vessels  swam 
with  whey,  the  milk-pails  and  the  bowls,  the  well-wrought 
vessels  whereinto  he  milked.  My  company  then  spale  and 
besought  me  first  of  all  to  take  of  the  cheeses  and  to  return, 
and  afterwards  to  make  haste  and  drive  off  the  kids  and 
Iambs  to  the  swift  ships  from  out  the  pens,  and  to  sail 
over  the  salt  sea  water.  Howbeit  I  hearkened  not  (and  far 
better  would  it  have  been),  but  waited  to  see  the  giant 
himself,  and  whether  he  would  give  me  gifts  as  a  stranger's 
due.  Yet  was  not  his  coming  to  be  with  joy  to  my 
company. 

*Then  we  kindled  a  fire,  and  made  burnt-offering,  and 
ourselves  likewise  took  of  the  cheeses,  and  did  eat,  and 
sat  waiting  for  him  within  till  he  came  back,  shepherding 
his  flocks.  And  he  bore  a  grievous  weight  of  dry  wood, 
against  supper  time.  This  log  he  cast  down  with  a  din 
inside  the  cave,  and  in  fear  we  fled  to  the  secret  place  of  the 
rock.  As  for  him,  he  drave  his  fat  flocks  into  the  wide 
cavern,  even  all  that  he  was  wont  to  milk ;  but  the  males 
both  of  the  sheep  and  of  the  goats  he  left  without  in  the 
deep  yard.  Thereafter  he  lifted  a  huge  doorstone  and 
weighty,  and  set  it  in  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  such  an  one 
as  two  and  twenty  good  four-wheeled  wains  could  not  raise 
from  the  ground,  so  mighty  a  sheer  rock  did  he  set  against 
the  doorway.  Then  he  sat  down  and  milked  the  ewes  and 
bleating  goats  all  orderly,  and  beneath  each  ewe  he  placed 
her  young.  And  anon  he  curdled  one  half  of  the  white 
milk,  and  massed  it  together,  and  stored  it  in  wicker-baskets, 
and  the  other  half  he  let  stand  in  pails,  that  he  might  have 
it  to  take  and  drink  against  supper  time.  Now  when  he 
had  done  all  his  work  busily,  then  he  kindled  the  fire  anew, 
and  espied  us,  and  made  question: 


142  ODYSSEY  IX,  252-282. 

* "  Strangers,  who  are  ye  ?  Whence  sail  ye  over  the  wet 
ways?  On  some  trading  enterprise  or  at  adventure  do  ye 
rove,  even  as  sea-robbers  over  the  brine,  for  at  hazard  of 
their  own  lives  they  wander,  bringing  bale  to  alien  men." 

*  So  spake  he,  but  as  for  us  our  heart  within  us  was  broken 
for  terror  of  the  deep  voice  and  his  own  monstrous  shape ; 
yet  despite  all  I  answered  and  spake  unto  him,  saying : 

* "  Lo,  we  are  Achaeans,  driven  wandering  from  Troy,  by 
all  manner  of  winds  over  the  great  gulf  of  the  sea ;  seeking 
our  homes  we  fare,  but  another  path  have  we  come,  by  other 
ways :  even  such,  methinks,  was  the  will  and  the  counsel 
of  Zeus.  And  we  avow  us  to  be  the  men  of  Agamemnon, 
son  of  Atreus,  whose  fame  is  even  now  the  mightiest  under 
heaven,  so  great  a  city  did  he  sack,  and  destroyed  many 
people;  but  as  for  us  we  have  lighted  here,  and  come  to 
these  thy  knees,  if  perchance  thou  wilt  give  us  a  stranger's 
gift,  or  make  any  present,  as  is  the  due  of  strangers.  Nay, 
lord,  have  regard  to  the  gods,  for  we  are  thy  suppliants; 
and  Zeus  is  the  avenger  of  suppliants  and  sojourners,  Zeus, 
the  god  of  the  stranger,  who  fareth  in  the  company  of 
reverend  strangers." 

*So  I  spake,  and  anon  he  answered  out  of  his  pitiless 
heart :  "  Thou  art  witless,  my  stranger,  or  thou  hast  come 
from  afar,  who  biddest  me  either  to  fear  or  shun  the  gods. 
For  the  Cyclopes  pay  no  heed  to  Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis,  nor 
to  the  blessed  gods,  for  verily  we  are  better  men  than  they. 
Nor  would  I,  to  shun  the  enmity  of  Zeus,  spare  either  thee 
or  thy  company,  unless  my  spirit  bade  me.  But  tell  me 
where  thou  didst  stay  thy  well-wrought  ship  on  thy  coming  ? 
Was  it  perchance  at  the  far  end  of  the  island,  or  hard  by, 
that  I  may  know  ?  " 

*  So  he  spake  tempting  me,  but  he  cheated  me  not,  who  knew 
full  much,  and  I  answered  him  again  with  words  of  guile : 


ODYSSEY  IX,  283-313.  143 

• "  As  for  my  ship,  Poseidon,  shaker  of  the  earth,  brake 
it  to  pieces,  for  he  cast  it  upon  the  rocks  at  the  border  of 
your  country,  and  brought  it  nigh  the  headland,  and  a 
wind  bare  it  thither  from  the  sea.  But  I  with  these  my 
men  escaped  from  utter  doom." 

*So  I  spake,  and  out  of  his  pitiless  heart  he  answered 
me  not  a  word,  but  sprang  up,  and  laid  his  hands  upon  my 
fellows,  and  clutching  two  together  dashed  them,  as  they  had 
been  whelps,  to  the  earth,  and  the  brain  flowed  forth  upon 
the  ground,  and  the  earth  was  wet.  Then  cut  he  them  up 
piecemeal,  and  made  ready  his  supper.  So  he  ate  even  as 
a  mountain-bred  Hon,  and  ceased  not,  devouring  entrails 
and  flesh  and  bones  with  their  marrow.  And  we  wept  and 
raised  our  hands  to  Zeus,  beholding  the  cruel  deeds;  and 
we  were  at  our  wits'  end.  And  after  the  Cyclops  had 
filled  his  huge  maw  with  human  flesh  and  the  milk  he 
drank  thereafter,  he  lay  within  the  cave,  stretched  out 
among  his  sheep. 

'  So  I  took  counsel  in  my  great  heart,  whether  I  should 
draw  near,  and  pluck  my  sharp  sword  from  my  thigh,  and 
stab  him  in  the  breast,  where  the  midriff  holds  the  liver, 
feeling  for  the  place  with  my  hand.  But  my  second 
thought  withheld  me,  for  so  should  we  too  have  perished 
even  there  with  utter  doom.  For  we  should  not  have  pre- 
vailed to  roll  away  with  our  hands  from  the  lofty  door  the 
heavy  stone  which  he  set  there.  So  for  that  time  we  made 
moan,  awaiting  the  bright  Dawn. 

'Now  when  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
again  he  kindled  the  fire  and  milked  his  goodly  flocks  all 
orderly,  and  beneath  each  ewe  set  her  lamb.  Anon  when  he 
had  done  all  his  work  busily,  again  he  seized  yet  other  two 
men  and  made  ready  his  mid-day  meal  And  after  the  meal, 
lightly  he  moved  away  the  great  door-stone,  and  drave  hia 


144 CDVSSEV  IX,  3i3-344> 

fat  flocks  forth  from  the  cave,  and  afterwards  he  set  it  in  his 
place  again,  as  one  might  set  the  lid  on  a  quiver.  Then 
with  a  loud  whoop,  the  Cyclops  turned  his  fat  flocks  towards 
the  hills;  but  I  was  left  devising  evil  in  the  deep  of  my 
heart,  if  in  any  wise  I  might  avenge  me,  and  Athene  grant 
me  renown. 

'  And  this  was  the  counsel  that  showed  best  in  my  sight. 
There  lay  by  a  sheep-fold  a  great  club  of  the  Cyclops,  a  club 
of  olive  wood,  yet  green,  which  he  had  cut  to  carry  with  him 
when  it  should  be  seasoned.  Now  when  we  saw  it  we 
likened  it  in  size  to  the  mast  of  a  black  ship  of  twenty  oars, 
a  wide  merchant  vessel  that  traverses  the  great  sea  gulf,  so 
huge  it  was  to  view  in  bulk  and  length.  I  stood  thereby  and 
cut  off  from  it  a  portion  as  it  were  a  fathom's  length,  and  set 
it  by  my  fellows,  and  bade  them  fine  it  down,  and  they  made 
it  even,  while  I  stood  by  and  sharpened  it  to  a  point,  and 
straightway  I  took  it  and  hardened  it  in  the  bright  fire.  Then 
I  laid  it  well  away,  and  hid  it  beneath  the  dung,  which  was 
scattered  in  great  heaps  in  the  depths  of  the  cave.  And  I 
bade  my  company  cast  lots  among  them,  which  of  them 
should  risk  the  adventure  with  me,  and  lift  the  bar  and  turn 
it  about  in  his  eye,  when  sweet  sleep  came  upon  him.  And 
the  lot  fell  upon  those  four  whom  I  myself  would  have  been 
fain  to  choose,  and  I  appointed  myself  to  be  the  fifth 
among  them.  In  the  evening  he  came  shepherding  his 
flocks  of  goodly  fleece,  and  presently  he  drave  his  fat  flocks 
into  the  cave  each  and  all,  nor  left  he  any  without  in  the  deep 
court-yard,  whether  through  some  foreboding,  or  perchance 
that  the  god  so  bade  him  do.  Thereafter  he  lifted  the  huge 
door-stone  and  set  it  in  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  and  sitting 
down  he  milked  the  ewes  and  bleating  goats,  all  orderly,  and 
beneath  each  ewe  he  placed  her  young.  Now  when  he  had 
done  all  his  work  busily,  again  he  seized  yet  other  two  and 


ODYSSEY  IX,  345-370-  '45 

made  ready  his  supper.  Then  I  stood  by  the  Cyclops  and 
spake  to  him,  holding  in  my  hands  an  ivy  bowl  of  the 
dark  wine: 

* "  Cyclops,  take  and  drink  wine  after  thy  feast  of  man's 
meat,  that  thou  mayest  know  what  manner  of  drink 
this  was  that  our  ship  held.  And  lo,  I  was  bringing  it 
thee  as  a  drink  offering,  if  haply  thou  mayest  take  pity 
and  send  me  on  my  way  home,  but  thy  mad  rage  is  past 
all  sufferance.  O  hard  of  heart,  how  may  another  of  the 
many  men  there  be  come  ever  to  thee  again,  seeing  that  thy 
deeds  have  been  lawless?" 

*  So  I  spake,  and  he  took  the  cup  and  drank  it  off,  and 
found  great  delight  in  drinking  the  sweet  draught,  and  asked 
me  for  it  yet  a  second  time : 

* "  Give  it  me  again  of  thy  grace,  and  tell  me  thy  name 
straightway,  that  I  may  give  thee  a  stranger's  gift,  wherein 
thou  mayest  be  glad.  Yea  for  the  earth,  the  grain-giver, 
bears  for  the  Cyclopes  the  mighty  clusters  of  the  juice  of 
the  grape,  and  the  rain  of  Zeus  gives  them  increase,  but 
this  is  a  rill  of  very  nectar  and  ambrosia." 

*  So  he  spake,  and  again  I  handed  him  the  dark  wine. 
Thrice  I  bare  and  gave  it  him,  and  thrice  in  his  folly  he 
drank  it  to  the  lees.  Now  when  the  wine  had  got  about  the 
wits  of  the  Cyclops,  then  did  I  speak  to  him  with  soft  words : 

* "  Cyclops,  thou  askest  me  my  renowned  name,  and  I 
will  declare  it  unto  thee,  and  do  thou  grant  me  a  stranger's 
gift,  as  thou  didst  promise.  Noman  is  my  name,  and 
Noman  they  call  me,  my  father  and  my  mother  and  all  my 
fellows." 

*  So  I  spake,  and  straightway  he  answered  me  out  of  his 
pitiless  heart : 

*  "  Noman  will  I  eat  last  in  the  number  of  his  fellows,  and 
the  others  before  him :  that  shall  be  thy  gift" 

L 


T46  ODYSSEY  IX,  371-402. 

*  Therewith  he  sank  backwards  and  fell  with  face  upturned, 
and  there  he  lay  with  his  great  neck  bent  round,  and  sleep, 
that  conquers  all  men,  overcame  him.  And  the  wine  and  the 
fragments  of  men's  flesh  issued  forth  from  his  mouth,  and  he 
vomited,  being  heavy  with  wine.  Then  I  thrust  in  that  stake 
under  the  deep  ashes,  until  it  should  grow  hot,  and  I  spake 
to  my  companions  comfortable  words,  lest  any  should  hang 
back  from  me  in  fear.  But  when  that  bar  of  olive  wood 
was  just  about  to  catch  fire  in  the  flame,  green  though  it 
was,  and  began  to  glow  terribly,  even  then  I  came  nigh, 
and  drew  it  from  the  coals,  and  my  fellows  gathered  about 
me,  and  some  god  breathed  great  courage  mto  us.  For  their 
part  they  seized  the  bar  of  olive  wood,  that  was  sharpened 
at  the  point,  and  thrust  it  into  his  eye,  while  I  from  my  place 
aloft  turned  it  about,  as  when  a  man  bores  a  ship's  beam 
with  a  drill  while  his  fellows  below  spin  it  with  a  strap, 
which  they  hold  at  either  end,  and  the  auger  runs  round  con- 
tinually. Even  so  did  we  seize  the  fiery-pointed  brand  and 
whirled  it  round  in  his  eye,  and  the  blood  flowed  about  the 
heated  bar.  And  the  breath  of  the  flame  singed  his  eyelids 
and  brows  all  about,  as  the  ball  of  the  eye  burnt  away,  and 
the  roots  thereof  crackled  in  the  flame.  And  as  when  a  smith 
dips  an  axe  or  adze  in  chill  water  with  a  great  hissing,  when 
he  would  temper  it — for  hereby  anon  comes  the  strength  of 
iron — even  so  did  his  eye  hiss  round  the  stake  of  olive.  And 
he  raised  a  great  and  terrible  cry,  that  the  rock  rang  around, 
and  we  fled  away  in  fear,  while  he  plucked  forth  from  his 
eye  the  brand  bedabbled  in  much  blood.  Then  maddened 
with  pain  he  cast  it  from  him  with  his  hands,  and  called  with 
a;  loud  voice  on  the  Cyclopes,  who  dwelt  about  him  in  the 
caves  along  the  windy  heights.  And  they  heard  the  cry 
and  flocked  together  from  every  side,  and  gathering  round 
the  cave  asked  him  what  ailed  him  ; 


ODYSSEY  IX,  403-433- M7 

*"What  hath  so  distressed  thee,  Polyphemus,  that  thou 
criest  thus  aloud  through  the  immortal  night,  and  makest  us 
sleepless  ?  Surely  no  mortal  driveth  off  thy  flocks  against 
thy  will :  surely  none  slayeth  thyself  by  force  or  craft  ? " 

'And  the  strong  Polyphemus  spake  to  them  again  from 
out  the  cave :  "  My  friends,  Noman  is  slaying  me  by  guile, 
nor  at  all  by  force." 

*  And  they  answered  and  spake  winged  words  :  "  If  then 
no  man  is  violently  handling  thee  in  thy  solitude,  it  can  in 
no  wise  be  that  thou  shouldest  escape  the  sickness  sent 
by  mighty  Zeus.  Nay,  pray  thou  to  thy  father,  the  lord 
Poseidon." 

*0n  this  wise  they  spake  and  departed;  and  my  heart 
within  me  laughed  to  see  how  my  name  and  cunning  counsel 
had  beguiled  them.  But  the  Cyclops,  groaning  and  travailing 
in  pain,  groped  with  his  hands,  and  lifted  away  the  stone  from 
the  door  of  the  cave,  and  himself  sat  in  the  entry,  with  arms 
outstretched  to  catch,  if  he  might,  any  one  that  was  going 
forth  with  his  sheep,  so  witless,  methinks,  did  he  hope  to  find 
me.  But  I  advised  me  how  all  might  be  for  the  very  best, 
if  perchance  I  might  find  a  way  of  escape  from  death  for  my 
companions  and  myself,  and  I  wove  all  manner  of  craft  and 
counsel,  as  a  man  will  for  his  life,  seeing  that  great  mischief 
was  nigh.  And  this  was  the  counsel  that  showed  best  in 
my  sight.  The  rams  of  the  flock  were  well  nurtured  and 
thick  of  fleece,  great  and  goodly,  with  wool  dark  as  the 
violet.  Quietly  I  lashed  them  together  with  twisted  withies, 
whereon  the  Cyclops  slept,  that  lawless  monster.  Three 
together  I  took:  now  the  middle  one  of  the  three  would 
bear  each  a  man,  but  the  other  twain  went  on  either  side, 
saving  my  fellows.  Thus  every  three  sheep  bare  their  man. 
But  as  for  me  I  laid  hold  of  the  back  of  a  young  ram  who 
was  far  the  best  and  the  goodliest  of  all  the  flock,  and  curled 

L    2 


148  ODYSSEY  IX,  434-4^4. 

beneath  his  shaggy  belly  there  I  lay,  and  so  clung  face  up- 
ward, grasping  the  wondrous  fleece  with  a  steadfast  heart.  So 
for  that  time  making  moan  we  awaited  the  bright  Dawn. 

*So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
then  did  the  rams  of  the  flock  hasten  forth  to  pasture,  but  the 
ewes  bleated  unmilked  about  the  pens,  for  their  udders  were 
swollen  to  bursting.  Then  their  lord,  sore  stricken  with  pain, 
felt  along  the  backs  of  all  the  sheep  as  they  stood  up  before 
him,  and  guessed  not  in  his  folly  how  that  my  men  were 
bound  beneath  the  breasts  of  his  thick-fleeced  flocks.  Last 
of  all  the  sheep  came  forth  the  ram,  cumbered  with  his  wool, 
and  the  weight  of  me  and  my  cunning.  And  the  strong  Poly- 
phemus laid  his  hands  on  him  and  spake  to  him,  saying : 

*  "  Dear  ram,  wherefore,  I  pray  thee,  art  thou  the  last  of 
all  the  flocks  to  go  forth  from  the  cave,  who  of  old  wast  not 
wont  to  lag  behind  the  sheep,  but  wert  ever  the  foremost 
to  pluck  the  tender  blossom  of  the  pasture,  faring  with  long 
strides,  and  wert  still  the  first  to  come  to  the  streams  of  the 
rivers,  and  first  didst  long  to  return  to  the  homestead  in  the 
evening.  But  now  art  thou  the  very  last.  Surely  thou  art 
sorrowing  for  the  eye  of  thy  lord,  which  an  evil  man  blinded, 
with  his  accursed  fellows,  when  he  had  subdued  my  wits 
with  wine,  even  Noman,  whom  I  say  hath  not  yet  escaped 
destruction.  Ah,  if  thou  couldst  feel  as  I,  and  be  endued 
with  speech,  to  tell  me  where  he  shifts  about  to  shun  my 
wrath;  then  should  he  be  smitten,  and  his  brains  be  dashed 
against  the  floor  here  and  there  about  the  cave,  and  my 
heart  be  lightened  of  the  sorrows  which  Noman,  nothing 
worth,  hath  brought  me !" 

*  Therewith  he  sent  the  ram  forth  from  him,  and  when  we 
had  gone  but  a  little  way  from  the  cave  and  from  the  yard, 
first  I  loosed  myself  from  under  the  ram  and  then  I  set  my 
fellows  free.     And  swiftly  we  drave  an  those  stiff- shanked 


ODYSSEY  IX,  465-495.  149 

sheep,  so  rich  in  fat,  and  often  turned  to  look  about,  till  we 
came  to  the  ship.  And  a  glad  sight  to  our  fellows  were  we 
that  had  fled  from  death,  but  the  others  they  would  have 
bemoaned  with  tears ;  howbeit  I  suffered  it  not,  but  with 
frowning  brows  forbade  each  man  to  weep.  Rather  I  bade 
them  to  cast  on  board  the  many  sheep  with  goodly  fleece, 
and  to  sail  over  the  salt  sea  water.  So  they  embarked  forth- 
with, and  sate  upon  the  benches,  and  sitting  orderly  smote 
the  grey  sea  water  with  their  oars.  But  when  I  had  not 
gone  so  far,  but  that  a  man's  shout  might  be  heard,  then 
I  spoke  unto  the  Cyclops  taunting  him : 

' "  Cyclops,  so  thou  wert  not  to  eat  the  company  of  a 
weakling  by  main  might  in  thy  hollow  cave !  Thine  evil 
deeds  were  very  sure  to  find  thee  out,  thou  cruel  man,  who 
hadst  no  shame  to  eat  thy  guests  within  thy  gates,  wherefore 
Zeus  hath  requited  thee,  and  the  other  gods." 

'  So  I  spake,  and  he  was  yet  the  more  angered  at  heart, 
and  he  brake  off  the  peak  of  a  great  hill  and  threw  it  at  us, 
and  it  fell  in  front  of  the  dark-prowed  ship  *.  And  the  sea 
heaved  beneath  the  fall  of  the  rock,  and  the  backward  flow  of 
the  wave  bare  the  ship  quickly  to  the  dry  land,  with  the  wash 
from  the  deep  sea,  and  drave  it  to  the  shore.  Then  I  caught 
up  a  long  pole  in  my  hands,  and  thrust  the  ship  from  off  the 
land,  and  roused  my  company,  and  with  a  motion  of  the  head 
bade  them  dash  in  with  their  oars,  that  so  we  might  escape 
our  evil  plight.  So  they  bent  to  their  oars  and  rowed  on.  But 
when  we  had  now  made  twice  the  distance  over  the  brine, 
I  would  fain  have  spoken  to  the  Cyclops,  but  my  company 
stayed  me  on  every  side  with  soft  words,  saying : 

* "  Foolhardy  that  thou  art,  why  wouldst  thou  rouse  a  wild 
man  to  wrath,  who  even  now  hath  cast  so  mighty  a  throw 

*  We  have  omitted  line  483,  as  required  by  the  sense.  It  is  introduced 
here  from  line  540. 


150  ODYSSEY  IX,  495-523. 

towards  the  deep  and  brought  our  ship  back  to  land,  yea  and 
we  thought  that  we  had  perished*  even  there?  If  he  had  heard 
any  of  us  utter  sound  or  speech  he  would  have  crushed  our 
heads  and  our  ship  timbers  with  a  cast  of  a  rugged  stone, 
so  mightily  he  hurls." 

*  So  spake  they,  but  they  prevailed  not  on  my  lordly  spirit, 
and  I  answered  him  again  from  out  an  angry  heart : 

*  "  Cyclops,  if  any  one  of  mortal  men  shall  ask  thee  of  the 
unsightly  blinding  of  thine  eye,  say  that  it  was  Odysseus  that 
blinded  it,  the  waster  of  cities,  son  of  Laertes,  whose  dwell- 
ing is  in  Ithaca." 

'  So  I  spake,  and  with  a  moan  he  answered  me,  saying : 

*  "  Lo  now,  in  very  truth  the  ancient  oracles  have  come 
upon  me.  There  lived  here  a  soothsayer,  a  noble  man 
and  a  mighty,  Telemus,  son  of  Eurymus,  who  surpassed  all 
men  in  soothsaying,  and  waxed  old  as  a  seer  among  the  Cy- 
cl6pes.  He  told  me  that  all  these  things  should  come  to  pass 
in  the  aftertime,  even  that  I  should  lose  my  eyesight  at  the 
hand  of  OJysseus.  But  I  ever  looked  for  some  tall  and 
goodly  man  to  come  hither,  clad  in  great  might,  but  behold 
now  one  that  is  a  dwarf,  a  man  of  no  worth  and  a  weakling, 
hath  blinded  me  of  my  eye  after  subduing  me  with  wine. 
Nay  come  hither,  Odysseus,  that  I  may  set  by  thee  a 
stranger's  cheer,  and  speed  thy  parting  hence,  that  so  the 
Earth-shaker  may  vouchsafe  it  thee,  for  hi3  son  am  I,  and 
he  avows  him  for  my  father.  And  he  himself  will  heal  me, 
if  it  be  his  will ;  and  none  other  of  the  blessed  gods  or 
of  mortal  men." 

*Even  so  he  spake,  but  I  answered  him,  and  said: 
"  Would  god  that  I  were  as  sure  to  rob  thee  of  soul  and  life, 

*  Neither  in  this  passage  nor  in  B  ii.  171  nor  in  B  xx.  121  do  we  think 
that  the  aorist  infinitive  after  a  verb  of  saying  can  bear  a  future  sense.  The 
aorist  infinitive  after  (X-rrajpr)  (ii.  280,  vii.  76)  is  hardly  an  argument  in  ita 
favour  ;  the  infinitive  there  is  in  fact  ^  noiui  in  the  genitive  casSi 


ODYSSEY  IX,  524-55<^»  >51 

and  send  thee  within  the  house  of  Hades,  as  I  am  that  not 
even  the  Earth-shaker  will  heal  thine  eye  !" 

*  So  I  spake,  and  then  he  prayed  to  the  lord  Poseidon 
stretching  forth  his  hands  to  the  starry  heaven :  "  Hear  me, 
Poseidon,  girdler  of  the  earth,  god  of  the  dark  hair,  if  indeed 
I  be  thine,  and  thou  avowest  thee  my  sire, —  grant  that  he  may 
never  come  to  his  home,  even  Odysseus,  waster  of  cities,  the 
son  of  Laertes,  whose  dwelling  is  in  Ithaca;  yet  if  he  is 
ordained  to  see  his  friends  and  come  unto  his  well-builded 
house,  and  his  own  country,  late  may  he  come  in  evil  case, 
with  the  loss  of  all  his  company,  in  the  ship  of  strangers 
and  find  sorrows  in  his  house." 

'  So  he  spake  in  prayer,  and  the  god  of  the  dark  locks 
heard  him.  And  once  again  he  lifted  a  stone,  far  gi  eater  than 
the  first,  and  with  one  swing  he  hurled  it,  and  he  put  forth 
a  measureless  strength,  and  cast  it  but  a  little  space  behind 
the  dark-prowed  ship>  and  all  but  struck  the  end  of  the  rud- 
der. And  the  sea  heaved  beneath  the  fall  of  the  rock,  but  the 
wave  bare  on  the  ship  and  drave  it  to  the  further  shore. 

'But  when  we  had  now  reached. that  island,  where  all  our 
other  decked  ships  abode  together,  and  our  company  were 
gathered  sorrowing,  expecting  us  evermore,  on  our  coming 
thither  we  ran  our  ship  ashore  upon  the  sand,  and  ourselves 
too  stept  forth  upon  the  sea  beach.  Next  we  took  forth 
the  sheep  of  the  Cyclops  from  out  the  hollow  ship,  and 
divided  them,  that  none  through  me  might  go  lacking  his 
proper  share.  But  the  ram  for  me  alone  my  goodly- greaved 
company  chose  out,  in  the  dividing  of  the  sheep,  and  on 
the  shore  I  offered  him  up  to  Zeus,  even  to  the  son  of 
Cronos,  who  dwells  in  the  dark  clouds,  and  is  lord  of  all, 
and  I  burnt  the  slices  of  the  thighs.  But  he  heeded  not  the 
sacrifice,  but  was  devising  how  ray  decked  ships  and  my 
dear  company  might  perish  utterly.     Thus  for  that  time  we 


152 


ODYSSEY  IX,  SS^S^S. 


sat  the  livelong  day,  until  the  going  down  of  the  sun,  feast- 
ing on  abundant  flesh  and  sweet  wine.  And  when  the  Sun 
had  sunk  and  darkness  had  come  on,  then  we  laid  us  to  rest 
upon  the  sea  beach.  So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the 
rosy-fingered,  I  called  to  my  company,  and  commanded  them 
that  they  should  themselves  climb  the  ship  and  loose  the 
hawsers.  So  they  soon  embarked  and  sat  upon  the  benches, 
and  sitting  orderly  smote  the  grey  sea  water  with  their  oars. 
*  Thence  we  sailed  onward  stricken  at  heart,  yet  glad  as 
men  saved  from  death,  albeit  we  had  lost  our  dear  com- 
panions. 


BOOK  X. 

Odysseus,  his  entertainment  by  Aeolus,  of  whom  he  received  a  fair  wind 
for  the  present,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  winds  tied  up  in  a  bag ;  which  his 
men  untying,  flew  out,  and  carried  him  back  to  Aeolus,  who  refused  to 
receive  him.  His  adventure  at  Lestrygonia  with  Antiphates,  where  of 
twelve  ships  he  lost  eleven,  men  and  all.  How  he  went  thence  to  the 
Isle  of  Aea,  where  half  of  his  men  were  turned  by  Circe  into  swine, 
and  how  he  went  himself,  and  by  the  help  of  Hermes  recovered  them  and 
stayed  with  Circe  a  year. 

'  Then  we  came  to  the  isle  Aeolian,  where  dwelt  Aeolus, 
son  of  Hippotas,  dear  to  the  deathless  gods,  in  a  floating 
island,  and  all  about  it  is  a  wall  of  bronze  unbroken,  and 
the  cliff  runs  up  sheer  from  the  sea.  His  twelve  children 
too  abide  there  in  his  halls,  six  daughters  and  six  lusty- 
sons  ;  and,  behold,  he  gave  his  daughters  to  his  sons  to  wife. 
And  they  feast  evermore  by  their  dear  father  and  their  kind 
mother,  and  dainties  innumerable  lie  ready  to  their  hands. 
And  the  house  is  full  of  the  savour  of  feasting,  and  the 
noise  thereof  rings  round,  yea  in  the  courtyard,  by  day,  ^ 
and  in  the  night  they  sleep  each  one  by  his  chaste  wife  in 
coverlets  and  on  jointed  bedsteads.  So  then  we  came  to 
their  city  and  their  goodly  dwelling,  and  the  king  entreated 
me  kindly  for  a  whole  month,  and  sought  out  each  thing, 
Ilios  and  the  ships  of  the  Argives,  and  the  return  of  the 
Achaeans.  So  I  told  him  all  the  tale  in  order  duly.  But 
when  I  in  turn  took  the  word  and  asked  of  my  journey,  and 
bade  him  send  me  on  my  way,  he  too  denied  me  not,  but 
furnished  an  escort.  He  gave  me  a  wallet,  made  of  the  hide 
of  an  ox  of  nine  seasons  old,  which  he  let  flay,  and  therein 
he  bound  the  ways  of  all  the  noisy  winds ;  for  him  the  son  of 
Cronos  made  keeper  of  the  winds,  either  to  lull  or  to  rouse 


154  ODVSSEV  X,  22-52. 

what  blasts  he  will.  And  he  made  it  fast  in  the  hold  of  the 
ship  with  a  shining  silver  thong,  that  not  the  faintest  breath 
might  escape.  Then  he  sent  forth  the  blast  of  the  West  Wind 
to  blow  for  me,  to  bear  our  ships  and  ourselves  upon  our 
way ;  but  this  he  was  never  to  bring  to  pass,  for  we  were 
undone  through  our  own  heedlessness. 

*  For  nine  whole  days  we  sailed  by  night  and  day  con- 
tinually, and  now  on  the  tenth  day  my  native  land  came  in 
sight,  and  already  we  were  so  near  that  we  beheld  the  folk 
tending  the  beacon  fires.  Then  over  me  there  came  sweet 
slumber  in  my  weariness,  for  I  kept  my  hand  ever  on  the 
helm,  nor  gave  it  to  any  of  my  company,  that  so  we  might 
come  quicker  to  our  own  country.  Meanwhile  my  company 
held  converse  together,  and  said  that  I  was  bringing  home 
for  myself  gold  and  silver,  gifts  from  Aeolus  the  high-hearted 
son  of  Hippotas.  And  thus  would  they  speak  looking  each 
man  to  his  neighbour : 

*  *'  Lo  now,  how  beloved  he  is  and  highly  esteemed 
among  all  men,  to  the  city  and  land  of  whomsoever  he  may 
come.  Many  are  the  goodly  treasures  he  taketh  with  him 
out  of  the  spoil  from  Troy,  while  we  who  have  fulfilled  like 
journeying  with  him  return  homeward  bringing  with  us  but 
empty  hands.  And  now  Aeolus  hath  given  unto  him  these 
things  freely  in  his  love.  Nay  come,  let  us  quickly  see 
what  they  are,  even  what  wealth  of  gold  and  silver  is  in 
the  wallet." 

*  So  they  spake,  and  the  evil  counsel  of  my  company  pre- 
vailed. They  loosed  the  wallet,  and  all  the  winds  brake 
forth.  And  the  violent  blast  seized  my  men,  and  bare  them 
towards  the  high  seas  weeping,  away  from  their  own  country; 
but  as  for  me,  I  awoke  and  communed  with  my  great  heart, 
whether  I  should  cast  myself  from  the  ship  and  perish  in  the 
deep,  or  endure  in  silence  and  abide  yet  among  the  living. 


ODYSSEY  X,  53-83.  155 

Howbeit  I  hardened  my  heart  to  endure,  and  muffling  my 
head  I  lay  still  in  the  ship.  But  the  vessels  were  driven  by 
the  evil  storm-wind  back  to  the  isle  Aeolian,  and  my  com- 
pany made  moan. 

*  There  we  stepped  ashore  and  drew  water,  and  my  com- 
pany presently  took  their  midday  meal  by  the  swift  ships. 
Now  when  we  had  tasted  bread  and  wine,  I  took  with  me  a 
herald  and  one  of  my  company,  and  went  to  the  famous  dwel- 
ling of  Aeolus ;  and  I  found  him  feasting  with  his  wife  and 
children.  So  we  went  in  and  sat  by  the  pillars  of  the  door 
on  the  threshold,  and  they  all  marvelled  and  asked  us : 

* "  How  hast  thou  come  hither,  Odysseus  ?  What  evil 
god  assailed  thee  ?  Surely  we  sent  thee  on  thy  way  with  all 
diligence,  that  thou  mightest  get  thee  to  thine  own  country 
and  thy  home,  and  whithersoever  thou  wouldest." 

*  Even  so  they  said,  but  I  spake  .among  them  heavy  at 
heart :  "  My  evil  company  hath  been  my  bane,  and  sleep 
thereto  remorseless.  Come,  my  friends,  do  ye  heal  the  harm, 
for  yours  is  the  power." 

*  So  I  spake,  beseeching  them  in  soft  w6rds,  but  they  held 
their  peace.  And  the  father  answered,  saying :  "  Get  thee 
forth  from  the  island  straightway,  thou  that  art  the  most  repro- 
bate of  living  men.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  help  or  to  further 
that  man  whom  the  blessed  gods  abhor !  Get  thee  forth,  for 
lo,  thy  coming  marks  thee  hated  by  the  deathless  gods." 

'Therewith  he  sent  me  forth  from  the  house  making 
heavy  moan.  Thence  we  sailed  onwards  stricken  at  heart.- 
And  the  spirit  of  the  men  was  spent  beneath  the  grievous 
rowing  by  reason  of  our  vain  endeavour,  for  there  was 
no  more  any  sign  of  a  wafting  wind.  So  for  the  space 
of  six  days  we  sailed  by  night  and  day  continually,  and 
on  the  seventh  we  came  to  the  steep  stronghold  of  Lamos, 
Telepylos  of  the  Laestrygons,  where  herdsman  hails  herds- 


156  ODYSSEY  X,  83-114. 

man  as  he  drives  in  his  flock,  and  the  other  who  drives 
forth  answers  the  call.  There  might  a  sleepless  man.  have 
earned  a  double  wage,  the  one  as  neat-herd,  the  other 
shepherding  white  flocks  :  so  near  are  the  outgoings  of  the 
night  and  of  the  day.  Thither  when  we  had  come  to  the  fair 
haven,  whereabout  on  both  sides  goes  one  steep  cliff  un- 
broken, and  jutting  headlands  over  against  each  other  stretch 
forth  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbour,  and  strait  is  the  en- 
trance ;  thereinto  all  the  others  steered  their  curved  ships. 
Now  the  vessels  were  bound  within  the  hollow  harbour  each 
hard  by  other,  for  no  wave  ever  swelled  within  it,  great  or 
small,  but  there  was  a  bright  calm  all  around.  But  I  alone 
moored  my  dark  ship  without  the  harbour,  at  the  uttermost 
point  thereof,  and  made  fast  the  hawser  to  a  rock.  And  I 
went  up  a  craggy  hill,  a  place  of  out-look,  and  stood  thereon : 
thence  there  was  no  sign  of  the  labour  of  men  or  oxen,  only 
we  saw  the  smoke  curling  upward  from  the  land.  Then  I 
sent  forth  certain  of  my  company  to  go  and  search  out  what 
manner  of  men  they  were  who  here  live  upon  the  earth  by 
bread,  choosing  otit  two  of  my  company  and  sending  a  third 
with  them  as  herald.  Now  when  they  had  gone  ashore,  they 
went  along  a  level  road  whereby  wains  were  wont  to  draw 
down  wood  from  the  high  hills  to  the  town.  And  without 
the  town  they  fell  in  with  a  damsel  drawing  water,  the  noble 
daughter  of  Laestrygonian  Antiphates.  She  had  come 
down  to  the  clear-flowing  spring  Artacia,  for  thence  it  was 
custom  to  draw  water  to  the  town.  So  they  stood  by  her 
and  spake  unto  her,  and  asked  who  was  king  of  that  land, 
and  who  they  were  he  ruled  over.  Then  at  once  she 
showed  them  the  high-roofed  hall  of  her  father.  Now  when 
they  had  entered  the  renowned  house,  they  found  his  wife 
therein :  she  was  huge  of  bulk  as  a  mountain  peak  and 
was   loathly  in   their   sight.      Straightway   she    called   the 


ODYSSEY  X,  114-144.  157 

renowned  Antiphates,  her  lord,  from  the  assembly-place,  and 
he  contrived  a  pitiful  destruction  for  my  men.  Forthwith 
he  clutched  up  one  of  my  company  and  made  ready  his 
midday  meal,  but  the  other  twain  sprang  up  and  came  in 
flight  to  the  ships.  Then  he  raised  the  war  cry  through  the 
town,  and  the  valiant  Laestrygons  at  the  sound  thereof, 
flocked  together  from  every  side,  a  host  past  number,  not 
like  men  but  like  the  Giants.  They  cast  at  us  from  the 
cliffs  with  great  rocks,  each  of  them  a  man's  burden,  and 
anon  there  arose  from  the  fleet  an  evil  din  of  men  dying  and 
ships  shattered  withal.  And  like  folk  spearing  fishes  they 
bare  home  their  hideous  meal.  While  as  yet  they  were 
slaying  my  friends  within  the  deep  harbour,  I  drew  my  sharp 
sword  from  my  thigh,  and  with  it  cut  the  hawsers  of  my  dark- 
prowed  ship.  Quickly  then  I  called  to  my  company,  and  bade 
them  dash  in  with  the  oars,  that  we  might  clean  escape  this 
evil  plight.  And  all  with  one  accord  they  tossed  the  sea 
water  with  the  oar-blade,  in  dread  of  death,  and  to  my 
delight  my  barque  flew  forth  to  the  high  seas  away  from  the 
heeding  rocks,  but  those  other  ships  were  lost  there,  one 
and  all. 

*  Thence  we  sailed  onward  stricken  at  heart,  yet  glad  as 
men  saved  from  death,  albeit  we  had  lost  our  dear  com- 
panions. And  we  came  to  the  isle  Aeaean,  where  dwelt 
Circe  of  the  braided  tresses,  an  awful  goddess  of  mortal 
speech,  own  sister  to  the  wizard  Aeetes.  Both  were  be- 
gotten of  Helios,  who  gives  light  to  all  men,  and  their  mother 
was  Perse,  daughter  of  Oceanus.  There  on  the  shore  we 
put  in  with  our  ship  into  the  sheltering  haven  silently,  and 
some  god  was  our  guide.  Then  we  stept  ashore,  and 
for  two  days  and  two  nights  lay  there,  consuming  our  own 
hearts  for  weariness  and  pain.  But  when  now  the  fair- 
tressed  Dawn  had  brought  the  full  light  of  the  third  day,  then 


158  ODVSSEV  X,  145-175. 

did  I  seize  my  spear  and  my  sharp  sword,  and  quickly  de- 
parting from  the  ship  I  went  up  unto  a  place  of  wide  pro- 
spect, if  haply  I  might  see  any  sign  of  the  labouj  of  men  and 
hear  the  sound  of  their  speech.  So  I  went  up  a  craggy  hill, 
a  place  of  out-look,  and  I  saw  the  smoke  rising  from  the  broad- 
wayed  earth  in  the  halls  of  Circe,  through  the  thick  coppice 
and  the  woodland.  Then  I  mused  in  my  mind  and  heart 
whether  I  should  go  and  make  discovery,  for  that  I  had  seen 
the  smoke  and  flame.  And  as  I  thought  thereon  this  seemed 
to  me  the  better  counsel,  to  go  first  to  the  swift  ship  and  to 
the  sea-banks,  and  give  my  company  their  midday  meal,  and 
then  send  them  to  make  search.  But  as  I  came  and  drew 
nigh  to  the  curved  ship,  some  god  even  then  took  pity  on  me 
in  my  loneliness,  and  sent  a  tall  antlered  stag  across  my  very 
path.  He  was  coming  down  from  his  pasture  in  the  woodland 
to  the  river  to  drink,  for  verily  the  might  of  the  sun  was  sore 
upon  him.  And. as  he  came  up  from  out  of  the  stream,  I 
smote  him  on  the  spine  in  the  middle  of  the  back,  and  the 
brazen  shaft  passed  clean  through  him,  and  with  a  moan  he 
fell  in  the  dust,  and  his  life  passed  from  him.  Then  I  set  my 
foot  on  him  and  drew  forth  the  brazen  shaft  from  the  wound, 
and  laid  it  hard  by  upon  the  ground  and  let  it  lie.  Next  I 
broke  withies  and  willow  twigs,  and  wove  me  a  rope  a 
fathom  in  length,  well  twisted  from  end  to  end,  and  bound 
together  the  feet  of  the  huge  beast,  and  went  to  the  black 
ship  bearing  him  across  my  neck,  and  leaning  on  a  spear,  for 
it  was  in  no  wise  possible  to  carry  him  on  my  shoulder  with 
the  one  hand,  for  he  was  a  mighty  quarry.  And  I  threw  him 
down  before  the  ship  and  roused  my  company  with  soft  words, 
standing  by  each  man  in  turn : 

*  *'  Friends,  for  all  our  sorrows  we  shall  not  yet  a  while  go 
down  to  the  house  of  Hades,  ere  the  coming  of  the  day  of 
destiny;   go  to  then,  while  as  yet  there  is  meat  and  dnnk 


ODYSSEY  X,  176-205.  159 

in  the  swift  ship,  let  us  take  thought  thereof,  that  we  be  not 
famished  for  hunger." 

'Even  so  I  spake,  and  they  speedily  hearkened  to 
my  words.  They  unmuffled  their  heads,  and  there  on 
the  shore  of  the  unharvested  sea  gazed  at  the  stag,  for  he 
was  a  mighty  quarry.  But  after  they  had  dehghted  their 
eyes  with  the  sight  of  him,  they  washed  their  hands  and 
got  ready  the  glorious  feast.  So  for  that  time  we  sat  the 
livelong  day  till  the  going  down  of  the  sun,  feasting  on 
abundant  flesh  and  sweet  wine.  But  when  the  sun  sank  and 
darkness  had  come  on,  then  we  laid  us  to  rest  upon  the  sea 
beach.  So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
I  called  a  gathering  of  my  men  and  spake  in  the  ears  of 
them  all : 

* "  Hear  my  words,  my  fellows,  despite  your  evil  case.  My 
friends,  lo,  now  we  know  not  where  is  the  place  of  dark- 
ness or  of  dawning,  nor  where  the  Sun,  that  gives  light  to 
men,  goes  beneath  the  earth,  nor  where  he  rises ;  therefore  let 
us  advise  us  speedily  if  any  counsel  yet  may  be :  as  for  me,  I 
deem  there  is  none.  For  I  went  up  a  craggy  hill,  a  place  of 
out-look,  and  saw  the  island  crowned  about  with  the  circle  of 
the  endless  sea,  the  isle  itself  lying  low ;  and  in  the  midst 
thereof  mine  eyes  beheld  the  smoke  through  the  thick 
coppice  and  the  woodland." 

'Even  so  I  spake,  but  their  spirit  within  them  was 
broken,  as  they  remembered  the  deeds  of  Antiphates  the 
Laestrygonian,  and  all  the  evil  violence  of  the  haughty  Cy- 
clops, the  man-eater.  So  they  wept  aloud  shedding  big 
tears.     Howbeit  no  avail  came  of  their  weeping. 

*  Then  I  numbered  my  goodly-greaved  company  in  two 
bands,  and  appointed  a  leader  for  each,  and  I  myself  took 
the  command  of  the  one  part,  and  godlike  Eurylochus  of 
the  other.     And  anon  we  shook  the  lots  in  a  brazen-fitted 


l6o  ODVSSEV  X,  205-:235. 

helmet,  and  out  leapt  the  lot  of  proud  Eurylochus.  So 
he  went  on  his  way,  and  with  him  two  and  twenty-  of 
my  fellowship  all  weeping;  and  we  were  left  behind 
making  lament.  In  the  forest  glades  they  found  the  halls 
of  Circe  builded,  of  polished  stone,  in  a  place  with  wide 
prospect.  And  all  around  the  palace  mountain-bred  wolves 
and  lions  were  roaming,  whom  she  herself  had  bewitched 
with  evil  drugs  that  she  gave  them.  Yet  the  beasts  did  not 
set  on  my  men,  but  lo,  they  ramped  about  them  and  fawned 
on  them,  wagging  their  long  tails.  And  as  when  dogs  fawn 
about  their  lord  when  he  comes  from  the  feast,  for  he 
always  brings  them  the  fragments  that  soothe  their  mood, 
even  so  the  strong-clawed  wolves  and  the  lions  fawned 
around  them ;  but  they  were  affrighted  when  they  saw  the 
strange  and  terrible  creatures.  So  they  stood  at  the  outer 
gate  of  the  fair-tressed  goddess,  and  within  they  heard 
Circe  singing  in  a  sweet  voice,  as  she  fared  to  and  fro  before 
the  great  web  imperishable,  such  as  is  the  handiwork  of 
goddesses,  fine  of  woof  and  full  of  grace  and  splendour. 
Then  Polites,  a  leader  of  men,  the  dearest  to  me  and  the 
trustiest  of  all  my  company,  first  spake  to  them  : 

* "  Friends,  forasmuch  as  there  is  one  within  that  fares 
to  and  fro  before  a  mighty  web  singing  a  sweet  song,  so 
that  all  the  floor  of  the  hall  makes  echo,  a  goddess  she  is 
or  a  woman ;  come  quickly  and  cry  aloud  to  her." 

*  He  spake  the  word  and  they  cried  aloud  and  called  to 
her.  And  straightway  she  came  forth  and  opened  the  shining 
doors  and  bade  them  in,  and  all  went  with  her  in  their 
heedlessness.  But  Eurylochus  tarried  behind,  for  he  guessed 
that  there  was  some  treason.  So  she  led  them  in  and  set 
them  upon  chairs  and  high  seats,  and  made  them  a  mess 
of  cheese  and  barley-meal  and  yellow  honey  with  Pramnian 
wine,  and  mixed  harmful  drugs  with  the  food  to  make  them 


ODYSSEY  X,  1^36-265.  161 

utterly  forget  their  own  country.  Now  when  she  had  given 
them  the  cup  and  they  had  drunk  it  off,  presently  she  smote 
them  with  a  wand,  and  in  the  styes  of  the  swine  she  penned 
them.  So  they  bad  the  head  and  voice,  the  bristles  and  the 
shape  of  swine,  but  their  mind  abode  even  as  of  old.  Thus 
were  they  penned  there  weeping,  and  Circe  flung  them  acorns 
and  mast  and  fruit  of  the  cornel  tree  to  eat,  whereon  wallow- 
ing swine  do  always  batten. 

*  Now  Eurylochus  came  back  to  the  swift  black  ship  to 
bring  tidings  of  his  fellows,  and  of  their  unseemly  doom. 
Not  a  word  could  he  utter,  for  all  his  desire,  so  deeply 
smitten  was  he  to  the  heart  with  grief,  and  his  eyes  were 
filled  with  tears  and  his  soul  was  fain  of  lamentation.  But 
when  we  all  had  pressed  him  with  our  questions  in  amazement, 
even  then  he  told  the  fate  of  the  remnant  of  our  company. 

* "  We  went,  as  thou  dfdst  command,  through  the  coppice, 
noble  Odysseus :  we  found  within  the  forest  glades  the  fair 
halls,  builded  of  polished  stone,  in  a  place  with  wide  pros- 
pect. And  there  was  one  that  fared  before  a  mighty  web 
and  sang  a  clear  song,  a  goddess  she  was  or  a  woman, 
and  they  cried  aloud  and  called  to  her.  And  straightway 
she  came  forth,  and  opened  the  shining  doors  and  bade 
them  in,  and  they  all  went  with  her  in  their  heedlessness. 
But  I  tarried  behind,  for  I  guessed  that  there  was  some 
treason.  Then  they  vanished  away  one  and  all,  nor  did 
any  of  them  appear  again,  though  I  sat  long  time  watch- 
ing." 

*  So  spake  he,  whereon  I  cast  about  my  shoulder  my 
silver-studded  sword,  a  great  blade  of  bronze,  and  slung  my 
bow  about  me  and  bade  him  lead  me  again  by  the  way 
that  he  came.  But  he  caught  me  with  both  hands,  and  by 
my  knees  he  besought  me,  and  bewailing  him  spake  to  me 
winged  words : 

M 


1 52  ODVSSEV  X,  266-2g6. 

* "  Lead  me  not  thither  against  my  will,  oh  fosterling  of 
Zeus,  but  leave  me  here  !  For  well  I  know  thou  shalt  thyself 
return  no  more,  nor  bring  any  one  of  all  thy  fellowship ;  nay, 
let  us  flee  the  swifter  with  those  that  be  here,  for  even  yet 
may  we  escape  the  evil  day." 

'  On  this  wise  he  spake,  but  I  answered  him,  saying : 
"Eurylochus,  abide  for  thy  part  here  in  this  place,  eating 
and  drinking  by  the  black  hollow  ship :  but  1  will  go  forth, 
for  a  strong  constraint  is  laid  on  me." 

*With  that  I  went  up  from  the  ship  and  the  sea-shore. 
But  lo,  when  in  my  faring  through  the  sacred  glades  I  was 
now  drawing  near  to  the  great  hall  of  the  enchantress  Circe, 
then  did  Hermes,  of  the  golden  wand,  meet  me  as  I  ap- 
proached the  house,  in  the  likeness  of  a  young  man  with 
the  first  down  on  his  lip,  the  time  when  youth  is  most 
gracious.  So  he  clasped  my  harfd  and  spake  and  hailed 
me: 

' "  Ah,  hapless  man,  whither  away  again,  all  alone  through 
the  wolds,  thou  that  knowest  not  this  country?  And  thy 
company  yonder  in  the  hall  of  Circe  are  penned  in  the  guise 
of  swine,  in  their  deep  lairs  abiding.  Is  it  in  hope  to  free 
them  that  thou  art  come  hither  ?  Nay,  methinks,  thou  thy- 
self shalt  never  return  but  remain  there  with  the  others. 
Come  then,  I  will  redeem  thee  from  thy  distress,  and  bring 
deliverance.  Lo,  take  this  herb  of  virtue,  and  go  to  the 
dwelling  of  Circe,  that  it  may  keep  from  thy  head  the  evil 
day.  And  I  will  tell  thee  all  the  magic  sleight  of  Circe. 
She  will  mix  thee  a  potion  and  cast  drugs  into  the  mess; 
but  not  even  so  shall  she  be  able  to  enchant  thee ;  so  helpful 
is  this  charmed  herb  that  I  shall  give  thee,  and  I  will  tell 
thee  all.  When  it  shall  be  that  Circe  smites  thee  with  her 
long  wand,  even  then  draw  thou  thy  sharp  sword  from  thy 
thigh,  and  spring  on  her,  as  one  eager  to  slay  her.    And 


ODYSSEY  X,  296-324.  163 

she  will  shrink  away  and  be  instant  with  thee  to  lie  with 
her.  Thenceforth  disdain  not  thou  the  bed  of  the  goddess, 
that  she  may  deliver  thy  company  and  kindly  entertain  thee. 
But  command  her  to  swear  a  mighty  oath  by  the  blessed 
gods,  that  she  will  plan  nought  else  of  mischief  to  thine  own 
hurt,  lest  she  make  thee  a  dastard  and  unmanned,  when  she 
hath  thee  naked." 

*  Therewith  the  slayer  of  Argos  gave  me  the  plant  that 
he  had  plucked  from  the  ground,  and  he  showed  me  the 
growth  thereof.  It  was  black  at  the  root,  but  the  flower 
was  like  to  milk.  Moly  the  gods  call  it,  but  it  is  hard 
for  mortal  men  to  dig;  howbeit  with  the  gods  all  things 
are  possible. 

*  Then  Hermes  departed  toward  high  Olympus,  up  through 
the  woodland  isle,  but  as  for  me  I  held  on  my  way  to  the 
house  of  Circe,  and  my  heart  was  darkly  troubled  as  I  went. 
So  I  halted  in  the  portals  of  the  fair-tressed  goddess ;  there 
I  stood  and  called  aloud  and  the  goddess  heard  my  voice, 
who  presently  came  forth  and  opened  the  shining  doors 
and  bade  me  in,  and  I  went  with  her  heavy  at  heart.  So 
she  led  me  in  and  set  me  on  a  chair  with  studs  of  silver, 
a  goodly  carven  chair,  and  beneath  was  a  footstool  for  the 
feet.  And  she  made  me  a  potion  in  a  golden  cup,  that 
I  might  drink,  and  she  also  put  a  charm  therein,  in  the  evil 
counsel  of  her  heart.  Now  when  she  had  given  it  and  I 
had  drunk  it  off  and  was  not  bewitched,  she  smote  me  with 
her  wand  and  spake  and  hailed  me  : 

* "  Go  thy  way  now  to  the  stye,  couch  thee  there  with  the 
rest  of  thy  company." 

'  So  spake  she,  but  I  drew  my  sharp  sword  from  my 
thigh  and  sprang  upon  Circe,  as  one  eager  to  slay  her. 
But  with  a  great  cry  she  slipped  under,  and  clasped  my 
knees,  and  bewailing  herself  spake  to  me  winged  words : 

M  2 


^^4 ODVSSEV  X,  325-357. 

* "  Who  art  thou  of  the  sons  of  men,  and  whence  ?  Where 
is  thy  city  ?  Where  are  they  that  begat  thee  ?  I  marvel  to 
see  how  thou  hast  drunk  of  this  charm,  and  wast  nowise  sub- 
dued. Nay,  for  there  lives  no  man  else  that  is  proof  against 
this  charm,  whoso  hath  drunk  thereof,  and  once  it  hath 
passed  his  lips^.  But  thou  hast,  melhinks,  a  mind  within 
thee  that  may  not  be  enchanted.  Verily  thou  art  Odysseus, 
ready  at  need,  whom  he  of  the  golden  wand,  the  slayer  of 
Argos,  full  often  told  me  was  to  come  hither,  on  his  way 
from  Troy  with  his  swift  black  ship.  Nay  come,  put  thy  sword 
into  the  sheath,  and  thereafter  let  us  go  up  into  my  bed,  that 
meeting  in  love  and  sleep  we  may  trust  each  the  other." 

*  So  spake  she,  but  I  answered  her,  saying :  "  Nay,  Circe, 
how  canst  thou  bid  me  be  gentle  to  thee,  who  hast  turned 
my  company  into  swine  within  thy  halls,  and  holding  me 
here  with  a  guileful  heart  requirest  me  to  pass  within  thy 
chamber  and  go  up  into  thy  bed,  that  so  thou  mayest  make 
me  a  dastard  and  unmanned  when  thou  hast  me  naked? 
Nay,  never  will  I  consent  to  go  up  into  thy  bed,  except 
thou  wilt  deign,  goddess,  to  swear  a  mighty  oath,  that  thou 
wilt  plan  nought  else  of  mischief  to  mine  own  hurt." 

*  So  I  spake,  and  she  straightway  swore  the  oath  not  to 
harm  me,  as  I  bade  her.  But  when  she  had  sworn  and  had 
done  that  oath,  then  at  last  I  went  up  into  the  beautiful  bed 
of  Circe. 

''Now  all  this  while  her  handmaids  busied  them  in  the 
halls,  four  maidens  that  are  her  serving  women  in  the  house. 
They  are  born  of  the  wells  and  of  the  woods  and  of  the  holy 
rivers,  that  flow  forward  into  the  salt  sea.  Of  these  one  cast 
upon  the  chairs  goodly  coverlets  of  purple  above,  and  spread 
a  linen  cloth  thereunder.  And  lo,  another  drew  up  silver 
tables  to  the  chairs,  and  thereon  set  for  them  golden  baskets. 
And  a  third  mixed  sweet  honey- hearted  wine  in  a  silver  bowl, 


ODVSSEV  X,  357-388.  165 

and  set  out  cups  of  gold.  And  a  fourth  bare  water,  and 
kindled  a  great  fire  beneath  the  mighty  cauldron.  So  the 
water  waxed  warm ;  but  when  it  boiled  in  the  bright  brazen 
vessel,  she  set  me  in  a  bath  and  bathed  me  with  water  from 
out  a  great  cauldron,  pouring  it  over  head  and  shoulders, 
when  she  had  mixed  it  to  a  pleasant  warmth,  till  from  my 
limbs  she  took  away  the  consuming  weariness.  Now  after 
she  had  bathed  me  and  anointed  me  well  with  olive  oil,  and 
cast  about  me  a  fair  mantle  and  a  doublet,  she  led  me  into 
the  halls  and  set  me  on  a  chair  with  studs  of  silver,  a  goodly 
carven  chair,  and  beneath  was  a  footstool  for  the  feet.  And 
a  handmaid  bare  water  for  the  hands  in  a  goodly  golden 
ewer,  and  poured  it  forth  over  a  silver  basin  to  wash  withal ; 
and  to  my  side  she  drew  a  polished  table,  and  a  grave  dame 
bare  wheaten  bread  and  set  it  by  me,  and  laid  on  the  board 
many  dainties,  giving  freely  of  such  things  as  she  had  by  her. 
And  she  bade  me  eat,  but  my  soul  found  no  pleasure  therein. 
I  sat  with  other  thoughts,  and  my  heart  had  a  boding  of  ill. 

*  Now  when  Circe  saw  that  I  sat  thus,  and  that  I  put  not 
forth  my  hands  to  the  meat,  and  that  I  was  mightily  afflicted, 
she  drew  near  to  me  and  spake  to  me  winged  words : 

*"  Wherefore  thus,  Odysseus,  dost  thou  sit  there  like  a 
speechless  man,  consuming  thine  own  soul,  and  dost  not 
touch  meat  nor  drink  ?  Dost  thou  indeed  deem  there  is  some 
further  guile  ?  Nay,  thou  hast  no  cause  to  fear,  for  already 
I  have  sworn  thee  a  strong  oath  not  to  harm  thee." 

*  So  spake  she,  but  I  answered  her,  saying :  "  Oh,  Circe, 
what  righteous  man  would  have  the  heart  to  taste  meat  and 
drink  ere  he  had  redeemed  his  company,  and  beheld  them 
face  to  face  ?  But  if  in  good  faith  thou  biddest  me  eat  and 
drink,  then  let  them  go  free,  that  mine  eyes  may  behold  my 
dear  companions.** 

*  So  I  spake,  and  Circe  passed  out  through  the  hall  with  the 


166  ODYSSEY  X,  389-42O. 

wand  in  her  hand,  and  opened  the  doors  of  the  stye,  and 
drave  them  forth  in  the  shape  of  swine  of  nine  seasons  old. 
There  they  stood  before  her,  and  she  went  through  their 
midst,  and  anointed  each  one  of  them  with  another  charm. 
And  lo,  from  their  limbs  the  bristles  dropped  away,  where- 
with the  venom  had  erewhile  clothed  them,  that  lady  Circe 
gave  them.  And  they  became  men  again,  younger  than 
before  they  were,  and  goodlier  far,  and  taller  to  behold. 
And  they  all  knew  me  again  and  each  one  took  my  hands, 
and  wistful  was  the  lament  that  sank  into  their  souls,  and 
the  roof  around  rang  wondrously.  And  even  the  goddess 
herself  was  moved  with  compassion. 

*  Then  standing  nigh  me  the  fair  goddess  spake  unto  me : 
"Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  depart  now  to  thy  swift  ship  and  the  sea-banks. 
And  first  of  all,  draw  ye  up  the  ship  ashore,  and  bestow  the 
goods  in  the  caves  and  all  the  gear.  And  thyself  return 
again,  and  bring  with  thee  thy  dear  companions.*' 

'  So  spake  she,  and  my  lordly  spirit  consented  thereto.  So 
I  went  on  my  way  to  the  swift  ship  and  the  sea-banks,  and 
there  I  found  my  dear  company  on  the  swift  ship  lamenting 
piteously,  shedding  big  tears.  And  as  when  calves  of  the 
homestead  gather  round  the  droves  of  kine  that  have  re- 
turned to  the  yard,  when  they  have  had  their  fill  of  pasture, 
and  all  with  one  accord  frisk  before  them,  and  the  folds  may 
no  more  contain  them,  but  with  a  ceaseless  lowing  they  skip 
about  their  dams,  so  flocked  they  all  about  me  weeping,  when 
their  eyes  beheld  me.  Yea,  and  to  their  spirit  it  was  as 
though  they  had  got  to  their  dear  country,  and  the  very  city 
of  rugged  Ithaca,  where  they  were  born  and  reared. 

*Then  making  lament  they  spake  to  me  winged  words: 
•*  O  fosterling  of  Zeus,  we  were  none  otherwise  glad  at  thy 
returning,  than  if  we  had  come  to  Ithaca,  our  own  country. 


ODYSSEY  X,  421-450.  1(57 

Nay  come,  of  our  other  companions  tell  us  the  tale  of  their 
ruin.'» 

'So  spake  they,  but  I  answered  them  with  soft  words: 
"  Behold,  let  us  first  of  all  draw  up  the  ship  ashore,  and 
bestow  our  goods  in  the  caves  and  all  our  gear.  And  do 
ye  bestir  you,  one  and  all,  to  go  with  me,  that  ye  may  see 
your  fellows  in  the  sacred  dwelling  of  Circe,  eating  and 
drinking,  for  they  have  continual  store." 

'  So  spake  I,  and  at  once  they  hearkened  to  my  words, 
but  Eurylochus  alone  would  have  holden  all  my  companions, 
and  uttering  his  voice  he  spake  to  them  winged  words : 

'"Wretched  men  that  we  are!  whither  are  we  going? 
Why  are  your  hearts  so  set  on  sorrow  that  ye  should  go 
down  to  the  hall  of  Circe,  who  will  surely  change  us  all  to 
swine,  or  wolves,  or  lions,  to  guard  her  great  house  perforce, 
according  to  the  deeds  that  the  Cyclops  wrought,  when 
certain  of  our  company  went  to  his  inmost  fold,  and  with 
them  went  Odysseus,  ever  hardy,  for  through  the  blindness 
of  his  heart  did  they  too  perish  ? " 

*  So  spake  he,  but  I  mused  in  my  heart  whether  to  draw  my 
long  hanger  from  my  stout  thigh,  and  therewith  smite  off  his 
head  and  bring  it  to  the  dust,  albeit  he  was  very  near  of 
kin  to  me ;  but  the  men  of  my  company  stayed  me  on  every 
side  with  soothing  words : 

* "  Prince  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  as  for  this  man,  we  will 
suffer  him,  if  thou  wilt  have  it  so,  to  abide  here  by  the 
ship  and  guard  the  ship;  but  as  for  us,  be  our  guide  to 
the  sacred  house  of  Circe." 

'  So  they  spake  and  went  up  from  the  ship  and  the  sea. 
Nay,  nor  yet  was  Eurylochus  left  by  the  hollow  ship,  but  he 
went  with  us,  for  he  feared  my  terrible  rebuke. 

*  Meanwhile  Circe  bathed  the  rest  of  my  company  in  her 
halls  witli  all  care,  and  anointed  them  well  with  olive  oil; 


l68  ODYSSEY  X,  451-483. 

and  cast  thick  mantles  and  doublets  about  them.  And 
we  found  them  all  feasting  nobly  in  the  halls.  And  when 
they  saw  and  knew  each  other  face  to  face,  they  wept  and 
mourned,  and  the  house  rang  around.  Then  she  stood  near 
me,  that  fair  goddess,  and  spake  saying : 

* "  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  no  more  now  wake  this  plenteous  weeping:  myself  I 
know  of  all  the  pains  ye  endured  upon  the  teeming  deep,  and 
the  great  despite  done  you  by  unkindly  men  upon  the  land. 
Nay  come,  eat  ye  meat  and  drink  wine,  till  your  spirit  shall 
return  to  you  again,  as  it  was  when  first  ye  left  your  own 
country  of  rugged  Ithaca;  but  now  are  ye  wasted  and  wanting 
heart,  mindful  evermore  of  your  sore  wandering,  nor  has 
your  heart  ever  been  merry,  for  very  grievous  hath  been 
your  trial." 

*  So  spake  she,  and  our  lordly  spirit  consented  thereto. 
So  there  we  sat  day  by  day  for  the  full  circle  of  a  year, 
feasting  on  abundant  flesh  and  sweet  wine.  But  when  now 
a  year  had  gone,  and  the  seasons  returned  as  the  months 
waned,  and  the  long  days  came  in  their  course,  then  did 
my  dear  company  call  me  forth,  and  say : 

* "  Good  sir,  now  is  it  high  time  to  mind  thee  of  thy  native 
land,  if  it  is  ordained  that  thou  shalt  be  saved,  and  come  to 
thy  lofty  house  and  thine  own  country." 

*  So  spake  they  and  my  lordly  spirit  consented  thereto. 
So  for  that  time  we  sat  the  livelong  day  till  the  going  down 
of  the  sun,  feasting  on  abundant  flesh  and  sweet  wine. 
But  when  the  sun  sank  and  darkness  came  on,  they  laid 
them  to  rest  throughout  the  shadowy  halls. 

*But  when  I  had  gone  up  into  the  fair  bed  of  Circe, 
I  besought  her  by  her  knees,  and  the  goddess  heard  my 
speech,  and  uttering  my  voice  I  spake  to  her  winged  words : 
"Circe,  fulfil  for  me  the  promise  which  thou  madest  me  to 


ODYSSEY  X,  484-515.  (159) 

send  me  on  my  homeward  way.  Now  is  my  spirit  eager  to 
be  gone,  and  the  spirit  of  my  company,  that  wear  away  my 
heart  as  they  mourn  around  me,  when  haply  thou  art  gone 
from  us."  .^^.^^ 

*  So  spake  I,  and  the  fair  goddess  answered  me  anon :  "  Son  1 
of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many  devices,  'nt 
tarry  ye  now  no  longer  in  my  house  against  your  will ;  but  first 
must  ye  perform  another  journey,  and  reach  the  dwelling  of 
Hades  and  of  dread  Persephone  to  seek  to  the  spirit  of 
Theban  Teiresias,  the  blind  soothsayer,  whose  wits  abide 
steadfast  To  him  Persephone  hath  given  judgment,  even 
in  death,  that  he  alone  should  have  understanding;  but  the 
other  souls  sweep  shadow-like  around." 

*Thus  spake  she,  but  as  for  me,  my  heart  was  broken, 
and  I  wept  as  I  sat  upon  the  bed,  and  my  soul  had  no  more 
care  to  live  and  to  see  the  sunlight.  But  when  I  had  my  fill 
of  weeping  and  grovelling,  then  at  the  last  I  answered  and 
spake  unto  her  saying:  *'And  who,  Circe,  will  guide  us 
on  this  way  ?  for  no  man  ever  yet  sailed  to  hell  in  a  black 
ship." 

'So  spake  I,  and  the  fair  goddess  answered  me  anon: 
"  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  nay,  trouble  not  thyself  for  want  of  a  guide,  by  thy 
ship  abiding,  but  set  up  the  mast  and  spread  abroad  the 
white  sails  and  sit  thee  down ;  and  the  breeze  of  the  North 
Wind  will  bear  thy  vessel  on  her  way.  But  when  thou 
hast  now  sailed  in  thy  ship  across  the  stream  Oceanus, 
where  is  a  waste  shore  and  the  groves  of  Persephone,  even 
tall  poplar  trees  and  willows  that  shed  their  fruit  before 
the  season,  there  beach  thy  ship  by  deep  eddying  Oceanus,  ^ 
but  go  thyself  to  the  dank  house  of  Hades.  Thereby  into 
Acheron  flows  Pyriphlegethon,  and  Cocytus,  a  branch  of 
the  water  of  the  Styx,  and  there  is  a  rock,  and  the  meeting 


170  ODVSSEV  X,  ^ir^-S47' 

of  the  two  roaring  waters.  So,  hero,  draw  nigh  thereto, 
as  I  command  thee,  and  dig  a  trench  as  it  were  a  cubit 
in  length  and  breadth,  and  about  it  pour  a  drink-offering  to 
all  the  dead,  first  with  mead  and  thereafter  with  sweet  wine, 
and  for  the  third  time  with  water,  and  sprinkle  white  meal 
thereon;  and  entreat  with  many  prayers  the  strengthless 
heads  of  the  dead,  and  promise  that  on  thy  return  to  Ithaca 
thou  wilt  offer  in  thy  halls  a  barren  heifer,  the  best  thou  hast, 
and  wilt  fill  the  pyre  with  treasure,  and  wilt  sacrifice  apart, 
to  Teiresias  alone,  a  black  ram  without  spot,  the  fairest  of 
your  flock.  But  when  thou  hast  with  prayers  made  suppli- 
cation to  the  lordly  races  of  the  dead,  then  offer  up  a  ram 
and  a  black  ewe,  bending  their  heads  towards  Erebus  and 
thyself  turn  thy  back,  with  thy  face  set  for  the  shore  of  the 
river.  Then  will  many  spirits  come  to  thee  of  the  dead  that 
be  departed.  (Thereafter  thou  shalt  call  to  thy  company  and 
command  them  to)flay  the  sheep  which  even  now  lie  slain 
by  the  pitiless  sword,  and  to  consume  them  with  fire,  and 
to  make  prayer  to  the  gods,  to  mighty  Hades  and  to  dread 
Persephone.  And  thyself  draw  the  sharp  sword  from  thy 
thigh  and  sit  there,  suffering  not  the  strengthless  heads  of 
the  dead  to  draw  nigh  to  the  blood,  ere  thou  hast  word  of 
Teiresias.  Then  the  seer  will  come  to  thee  quickly,  leader 
of  the  people;  he  will  surely  declare  to  thee  the  way  and 
the  measure  of  thy  path,  and  as  touching  thy  returning, 
how  thou  mayst  go  over  the  teeming  deep." 

'  So  spake  she,  and  anon  came  the  golden  throned  Dawn. 
Then  she  put  on  me  a  mande  and  a  doublet  for  raiment,  and 
the  nymph  clad  herself  in  a  great  shining  robe,  light  of  woof 
and  gracious,  and  about  her  waist  she  cast  a  fair  golden 
girdle,  and  put  a  veil  upon  her  head.  But  I  passed  through 
the  halls  and  roused  my  men  with  smooth  words,  standing 
by  each  one  in  turn: 


onvss£:v  x,  548-574.  171 

* "  Sleep  ye  now  no  more  nor  breathe  sweet  slumber ;  but 
let  us  go  on  our  way,  for  surely  she  hath  shown  me  all,  the 
lady  Circe." 

*  So  spake  I,  and  their  lordly  soul  consented  thereto.  Yet 
even  thence  I  led  not  my  company  safe  away.  There  was 
one,  Elpenor,  the  youngest  of  us  all,  not  very  valiant  in  war 
neither  steadfast  in  mind.  He  was  lying  apart  from  the  rest 
of  my  men  on  the  housetop  of  Circe's  sacred  dwelling,  very 
fain  of  the  cool  air,  as  one  heavy  with  wine.  Now  when  he 
heard  the  noise  of  the  voices  and  of  the  feet  of  my  fellows 
as  they  moved  to  and  fro,  he  leaped  up  of  a  sudden  and 
minded  him  not  to  descend  again  by  the  way  of  the  tall 
ladder,  but  fell  right  down  from  the  roof,  and  his  neck  was 
broken  from  the  bones  of  the  spine,  and  his  spirit  went 
down  to  the  house  of  Hades. 

*  Then  I  spake  among  my  men  as  they  went  on  their 
way,  saying:  "Ye  deem  now,  I  see,  that  ye  are  going  to 
your  own  dear  country ;  but;  Circe  liath  showed  us  another 
way,  even  to  the  dwelling  of  Hades  and  of  dread  Perse- 
phone, to  seek  to  the  spirit  of  Theban  Teiresias." 

*  Even  so  I  spake,  but  their  heart  within  them  was  broken, 
and  they  sat  them  down  even  where  they  were,  and  made 
lament  and  tore  their  hair.  Howbeit  no  help  came  of  their 
weeping. 

*  But  as  we  were  now  wending  sorrowful  to  the  swift 
ship  and  the  sea-banks,  shedding  big  tears,  Circe  meanwhile 
had  gone  her  ways  and  made  fast  a  ram  and  a  black  ewe  by 
the  dark  ship,  lightly  passing  us  by  :  who  may  behold  a  god 
against  his  will,  whether  going  to  or  fro?* 


BOOK    XL 

Odysseus,  his  descent  into  hell,  and  discourses  with  the  ghosts  of  the 
deceased  heroes. 

*Now  when  we  had  gone  down  to  the  ship  and  to  the 
sea,  first  of  all  we  drew  the  ship  unto  the  fair  salt  water, 
and  placed  the  mast  and  sails  in  the  black  ship,  and  took 
those  sheep  and  put  them  therein,  and  ourselves  too  climbed 
on  board,  sorrowing,  and  shedding  big  tears.  And  in  the 
wake  of  our  dark-prowed  ship  she  sent  a  favouring  wind 
that  filled  the  sails,  a  kindly  escort, — even  Circe  of  the 
braided  tresses,  a^  dread  goddess  of  human  speech.  And 
we  set  in  order  all  the  gear  throughout  the  ship  and  sat  us 
down ;  and  the  wind  and  the  helmsman  guided  our  barque. 
And  all  day  long  her  sails  were  stretched  in  her  seafaring ; 
and  the  sun  sank  and  all  the  ways  were  darkened. 

'  She  came  to  the  limits  of  the  world,  to  the  deep- 
flowing  Oceanus.  JThere  is  the  land  and  the  city  of  the 
Cimmerians,  shrouded  in  mist  and  cloud,  and  never  does  the 
shining  sun  look  down  on  them  with  his  rays,  neither  when  he 
climbs  up  the  starry  heavens,  nor  when  again  he  turns  earth- 
ward from  the  firmament,  but  deadly  night  is  outspread  over 
miserable  mortals.  Thither  we  came  and  ran  the  ship  ashore 
and  took  out  the  sheep ;  but  for  our  part  we  held  on  our 
way  along  the  stream  of  Oceanus,  till  we  came  to  the  place 
which  Circe  had  declared  to  us. 

'  There  Perimedes  and  Eurylochus  held  the  victims,  but  I 


CDVSSEV  XI,  34-56.  173 

drew  my  sharp  sword  from  my  thigh,  and  dug  a  pit,  as  it  were 
a  cubit  in  length  and  breadth,  and  about  it  poured  a  drink- 
offering  to  all  the  dead,  first  with  mead  and  thereafter  with 
sweet  wine,  and  for  the  third  time  with  water.  And  I  sprinkled 
white  meal  thereon,  and  entreated  with  many  prayers  the 
strengthless  heads  of  the  dead,  and  promised  that  on  my 
return  to  Ithaca  I  would  offer  in  my  halls  a  barren  heifer, 
the  best  I  had,  and  fill  the  pyre  with  treasure,  and  apart  unto 
Teiresias  alone  sacrifice  a  black  ram  without  spot,  the  fairest 
of  my  flock.  But  when  I  had  besought  the  tribes  of  the 
dead  with  vows  and  prayers,  I  took  the  sheep  and  cut  their! 
throats  over  the  trench,  and  the  dark  blood  flowed  forth,  L 
and  lo,  the  spirits  of  the  dead  that  be  departed  gathered  \ 
them  from  out  of  Erebus.  Brides  and  youths  unwed,  and  J 
old  men  of  many  and  evil  days,  and  tender  maidens  with 
grief  yet  fresh  at  heart ;  and  many  there  were,  wounded  with 
bronze-shod  spears,  men  slain  in  fight  with  their  bloody  mail 
about  them.  And  these  many  ghosts  flocked  together  from 
every  side  about  the  trench  with  a  wondrous  cry,  and  pale 
fear  gat  hold  on  me.  Then  did  I  speak  to  my  company 
and  command  them  to  flay  the  sheep  that  lay  slain  by  the 
pitiless  sword,  and  to  consume  them  with  fire,  and  to  make 
prayer  to  the  gods,  to  mighty  Hades  and  to  dread  Per- 
sephone, and  myself  I  drew  the  sharp  sword  from  my 
thigh  and  sat  there,  suffering  not  the  strengthless  heads 
of  the  dead  to  draw  nigh  to  the  blood,  ere  I  had  word 
of  Teiresias. 

*  And  first  came  the  soul  of  Elpenor,  my  companion,  that 
had  not  yet  been  buried  beneath  the  wide-wayed  earth; 
for  we  left  the  corpse  behind  us  in  the  hall  of  Circe,  unwept 
and  unburied,  seeing  that  another  task  was  instant  on  us. 
At  the  sight  of  him  I  wept  and  had  compassion  on  him,  and 
uttering  my  vQice  spake  to  him  wingjed  words ;  "  Elpenor, 


174  ODYSSEY  XI,  57-86. 

how  hast  thou  come  beneath  the  darkness  and  the  sha- 
dow ?  Thou  hast  come  fleeter  on  foot  than  I  in  my 
black  ship." 

*  So  spake  I,  and  with  a  moan  he  answered  me,  saying : 
"  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  an  evil  doom  of  some  god  was  my  bane  and  wine 
out  of  measure.  When  I  laid  me  down  on  the  house-top  of 
Circe  I  minded  me  not  to  descend  again  by  the  way  of  the  tall 
ladder,  but  fell  right  down  from  the  roof,  and  my  neck  was 
broken  off  from  the  bones  of  the  spine,  and  my  spirit  went 
down  to  the  house  of  Hades.  And  now  I  pray  thee  in  the 
name  of  those  whom  we  left,  who  are  no  more  with  us,  thy 
wife,  and  thy  sire  who  cherished  thee  when  as  yet  thou  wert 
a  little  one,  and  Telemachus,  whom  thou  didst  leave  in  thy 
halls  alone ;  forasmuch  as  I  know  that  on  thy  way  hence  from 
out  the  dwelling  of  Hades,  thou  wilt  stay  thy  well- wrought  ship 
at  the  isle  Aeaean,  even  then,  my  lord,  I  charge  thee  to  think 
on  me.  Leave  me  not  unwept  and  unburied  as  thou  goest 
hence,  nor  turn  thy  back  upon  me,  lest  haply  I  bring  on  thee 
the  anger  of  the  gods.  Nay,  burn  me  there  with  mine  armour, 
all  that  is  mine,  and  pile  me  a  barrow  on  the  shore  of  the 
grey  sea,  the  grave  of  a  luckless  man,  that  even  men  unborn 
may  hear  my  story.  Fulfil  me  this  and  plant  upon  the  barrow 
mine  oar,  wherewith  I  rowed  in  the  days  of  my  life,  while 
yet  I  was  among  my  fellows.*' 

*  Even  so  he  spake,  and  I  answered  him  saying :  "  All 
this,  luckless  man,  will  I  perform  for  thee  and  do." 

'  Even  so  we  twain  were  sitting  holding  saJ  discourse,  I 
on  the  one  side,  stretching  forth  my  sword  over  the  blood, 
while  on  the  other  side  the  ghost  of  my  friend  told  all  h's 
tale. 

*  Anon  came  up  the  soul  of  my  mother  dead,  Anticleia, 
the  daughter   of  Autolycus  the  great-beayted,  whom  I  left 


ODYSSEY  XI,  S6-iiS,  175 

alive  when  I  departed  for  sacred  IHos.  At  the  sight  of  her 
I  wept,  and  was  moved  with  compassion,  yet  even  so,  for  all 
my  sore  grief,  I  suffered  her  not  to  draw  nigh  to  the  blood, 
ere  I  had  word  of  Teiresias. 

*  AnOn  came  the  soul  of  Theban  Teiresias,  with  a  golden 
sceptre  in  his  hand,  and  he  knew  me  and  spake  unto  me : 
"  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  what  seekest  thou  nozo,  wretched  man,  wherefore 
hast  thou  left  the  sunlight  and  come  hither  to  behold  the 
dead  and  a  land  desolate  of  joy  ?  Nay,  hold  off  from  the 
ditch,  and  draw  back  thy  sharp  sword,  that  I  may  drink  of 
the  blood  and  tell  thee  sooth/' 

*  So  spake  he  and  I  put  up  my  silver-studded  sword  into 
the  sheath,  and  when  he  had  drunk  the  dark  blood,  even 
then  did  the  noble  seer  speak  unto  me,  saying :  *'  Thou  art 
asking  of  thy  sweet  returning,  great  Odysseus,  but  that  will 
the  god  make  hard  for  thee ;  for  methinks  thou  shalt  not  pass 
unheeded  by  the  Shaker  of  the  Earth,  who  hath  laid  up  wrath 
in  his  heart  against  thee,  for  rage  at  the  blinding  of  his  dear 
son.  Yet  even  so,  through  many  troubles,  ye  may  come 
home,  if  thou  wilt  restrain  thy  spirit  and  the  spirit  of  thy  men 
so  soon  as  thou  shalt  bring  thy  well-wrought  ship  nigh  to 
the  isle  Thrinacia,  fleeing  the  sea  of  violet  blue,  when  ye  find 
the  herds  of  Helios  grazing  and  his  brave  flocks,  of  Helios 
who  overseeth  all  and  overheareth  all  things.  If  thou  doest 
these  no  hurt,  being  heedful  of  thy  return,  so  may  ye  yet 
reach  Ithaca,  albeit  in  evil  case.  But  if  thou  hurtest  them,  I  fore- 
show ruin  for  thy  ship  and  for  thy  men,  and  even  though  thou 
shalt  thyself  escape,  late  shalt  thou  return  in  evil  plight,  with 
the  loss  of  all  thy  company,  on  board  the  ship  of  strangers, 
and  thou  shalt  find  sorrows  in  thy  house,  even  proud  men 
that  devour  thy  living,  while  they  woo  thy  godlike  wife  and 
offer  the  gifts  of  wooing.   Yet  I  tell  thee,  on  thy  coming  thou 


176  ODYSSEY  XI,  I18-153. 

shalt  avenge  their  violence.  But  when  thou  hast  slain  the 
wooers  in  thy  halls,  whether  by  guile,  or  openly  with  the  edge 
of  the  sword,  thereafter  go  thy  way,  taking  with  thee  a  shapen 
oar,  till  thou  shalt  come  to  such  men  as  know  not  the  sea, 
neither  eat  meat  savoured  with  salt;  yea,  nor  have  they 
knowledge  of  ships  of  purple  cheek,  nor  shapen  oars  which 
serve  for  wings  to  ships.  And  I  will  give  thee  a  most  mani- 
fest token,  which  cannot  escape  thee.  In  the  day  when 
another  wayfarer  shall  meet  thee  and  say  that  thou  hast  a 
winnowing  fan  on  thy  stout  shoulder,  even  then  make  fast 
thy  shapen  oar  in  the  earth  and  do  goodly  sacrifice  to  the  lord 
Poseidon,  even  with  a  ram  and  a  bull  and  a  boar,  the  mate 
of  swine,  and  depart  for  home  and  offer  holy  hecatombs  to 
the  deathless  gods  that  keep  the  wide  heaven,  to  each  in 
order  due.  And  from  the  sea  shall  thine  own  death  come, 
the  gentlest  death  that  may  be,  which  shall  end  thee  fore- 
done  with  smooth  old  age,  and  the  folk  shall  dwell  happily 
around  thee.     This  that  I  say  is  sooth." 

*  So  spake  he,  and  I  answered  him,  saying :  "  Teiresias, 
^all  these  threads,  methinks,  the  gods  themselves  have  spun. 

But  come,  declare  me  this  and  plainly  tell  me  all.  I  see 
here  the  spirit  of  my  mother  dead ;  lo,  she  sits  in  silence 
near  the  blood,  nor  deigns  to  look  her  son  in  the  face  nor 
speak  to  him!  Tell  me,  prince,  how  may  she  know  me 
again  that  I  am  he?" 

*  So  spake  I,  and  anon  he  answered  me,  and  said :  "  I  will 
tell  thee  an  easy  saying,  and  will  put  it  in  thy  heart. 
Whomsoever  of  the  dead  that  be  departed  thou  shalt  suffer 
to  draw  nigh  to  the  blood,  he  shall  tell  thee  sooth ;  but  if 

Thou  shalt  grudge  any,  that  one  shall  go  to  his  own  place 
again."  Therewith  the  spirit  of  the  prince  Teiresias  went  back 
within  the  house  of  Hades,  when  he  had  told  all  his  oracles. 
But  I  abode  there  steadfastly,  till  my  mother  drew  nigh  and 


ODYSSEY  XI,  153-185.  177 

drank  the  dark  blood ;  and  at  once  she  knew  me,  and  be- 
wailing herself  spake  to  me  winged  words  : 

* "  Dear  child,  how  didst  thou  come  beneath  the  darkness 
and  the  shadow,  thou  that  art  a  living  man"?  Grievous  is 
the  sight  of  these  things  to  the  living,  for  between  us  and  you 
are  great  rivers  and  dreadful  streams ;  first,  Oceanus,  which 
can  no  wise  be  crossed  on  foot,  but  only  if  one  have  a  well- 
wrought  ship.  Art  thou  but  now  come  hither  with  thy  ship  and 
thy  company  in  thy  long  wanderings  from  Troy  ?  and  hast 
thou  not  yet  reached  Ithaca,  nor  seen  thy  wife  in  thy  halls  ? " 

*  Even  so  she  spake,  and  I  answered  her,  and  said:  "O  my 
mother,  necessity  was  on  me  to  come  down  to  the  house  of 
Hades  to  seek  to  the  spirit  of  Theban  Teiresias.  For  not 
yet  have  I  drawn  near  to  the  Achaean  shore,  nor  yet  have  I 
set  foot  on  mine  own  country,  but  have  been  wandering  ever- 
more in  affliction,  from  the  day  that  first  I  went  with  goodly 
Agamemnon  to  Ilios  of  the  fair  steeds,  to  do  battle  with  the 
Trojans.  But  come,  declare  me  this  and  plainly  tell  it  all. 
What  doom  overcame  thee  of  death  that  lays  men  at  their 
length  ?  Was  it  a  slow  disease,  or  did  Artemis  the  archer 
slay  thee  with  the  visitation  of  her  gentle  shafts  ?  And  tell 
me  of  my  father  and  my  son,  that  I  left  behind  me ;  doth 
my  honour  yet  abide  with  them,  or  hath  another  already 
taken  it,  while  they  say  that  I  shall  come  home  no  more  ? 
And  tell  me  of  my  wedded  wife,  of  her  counsel  and  her 
purpose,  doth  she  abide  with  her  son  and  keep  all  secure, 
or  hath  she  already  wedded  the  best  of  the  Achaeans  ? " 

*Even  so  I  spake,  and  anon  my  lady  mother  answered 
me  :  "  Yea  verily,  she  abideth  with  steadfast  spirit  in  thy 
halls ;  and  wearily  for  her  the  nights  wane  always  and 
the  days  in  shedding  of  tears.  But  the  fair  honour  that  is 
thine  no  man  hath  yet  taken ;  but  Telemachus  sits  at  peace 
on  his  demesne,  and  feasts  at  equal  banquets,  whereof  it  is 

N 


lyS  ODYSSEY  XI,  186-219. 

meet  that  a  judge  partake,  for  all  men  bid  him  to  their 
house.  And  thy  father  abides  there  in  the  field,  and  goes 
not  down  to  the  town,  nor  lies  he  on  bedding  or  rugs  or 
shining  blankets,  but  all  the  winter  he  sleeps,  where  sleep 
the  thralls  in  the  house,  in  the  ashes  by  the  fire,  and  is 
clad  in  sorry  raiment.  But  when  the  summer  comes  and 
the  rich  harvest-tide,  his  beds  of  fallen  leaves  are  strewn 
lowly  all  about  the  knoll  of  his  vineyard  plot.  There  he 
lies  sorrowing  and  nurses  his  mighty  grief,  for  long  desire 
of  thy  return,  and  old  age  withal  comes  heavy  upon  him. 
Yea  and  even  so  did  I  too  perish  and  meet  my  doom.  It 
was  not  the  archer  goddess  of  the  keen  sight,  v/ho  slew  me  in 
my  halls  with  the  visitation  of  her  gentle  shafts,  nor  .did 
any  sickness  come  upon  me,  such  as  chiefly  with  a  sad 
wasting  draws  the  spirit  from  the  limbs ;  nay,  it  was  my  sore 
longing  for  thee,  and  for  thy  counsels,  great  Odysseus,  and 
for  thy  loving-kindness,  that  reft  me  of  sweet  life." 

*So  spake  she,  and  I  mused  in  my  heart  and  would 
fain-  have  embraced  the  spirit  of  my  mother  dead.  Thrice 
I  sprang  towards  her,  and  was  minded  to  embrace  her; 
thrice  she  flitted  from  my  hands  as  a  shadow  or  even  as 
a  dream,  and  grief  waxed  ever  the  sharper  at  my  heart. 
And  uttering  my  voice  I  spake  to  her  winged  words: 

* "  Mother  mine,  wherefore  dost  thou  not  abide  me  who 
am  eager  to  clasp  thee,  that  even  in  Hades  we  twain  may 
cast  our  arms  each  about  the  other,  and  have  our  fill  of 
chill  lament  ?  Is  this  but  a  phantom  that  the  high  goddess 
Persephone  hath  sent  me,  to  the  end  that  I  may  groan  for 
more  exceeding  sorrow  ? " 

*  So  spake  I,  and  my  lady  mother  answered  me  anon :  "Ah 
me,  my  child,  of  all  men  most  ill-fated,  Persephone,  the 
daughter  of  Zeus,  doth  in  no  wise  deceive  thee,  but  even  on 
this  wise  it  is  with  mortals  when  they  die.    For  the  sinews  no 


ODYSSEY  XI,  319-253.  179 

more  bind  together  the  flesh  and  the  bones,  but  the  great  force 
of  burning  fire  abolishes  these,  so  soon  as  the  life  hath  left  the 
white  bones,  and  the  spirit  like  a  dream  flies  forth  and  hovers 
near.  But  haste  with  all  thine  heart  toward  the  sunlight,  and 
mark  all  this,  that  even  hereafter  thou  mayest  tell  it  to  thy  wife." 

'Thus  we  twain  held  discourse  together;  and  lo,  the 
women  came  up,  for  the  high  goddess  Persephone  sent 
them  forth,  all  they  that  had  been  the  wives  and  daughters 
of  mighty  men.  And  they  gathered  and  flocked  about  the 
black  blood,  and  I  took  counsel  how  I  might  question  them 
each  one.  And  this  was  the  counsel  that  showed  best  in 
my  sight.  I  drew  my  long  hanger  from  my  stalwart  thigh, 
and  suffered  them  not  all  at  one  time  to  drink  of  the  dark 
blood.  So  they  drew  nigh  one  by  one,  and  each  declared 
her  lineage,  and  I  made  question  of  all. 

'Then  verily  did  I  first  see  Tyro,  sprung  of  a  noble 
sire,  who  said  that  she  was  the  child  of  noble  Salmoneus, 
and  declared  herself  the  wife  of  Cretheus,  son  of  Aeolus. 
She  loved  a  river,  the  divine  Enipeus,  far  the  fairest  of  the 
floods  that  run  upon  the  earth,  and  she  would  resort 
to  the  fair  streams  of  Enipeus.  And  it  came  to  pass  that 
the  girdler  of  the  world,  the  Earth-shaker,  put  on  the  shape 
of  the  god,  and  lay  by  the  lady  at  the  mouths  of  the  whirling 
stream.  Then  the  dark  wave  stood  around  them  like  a 
hill-side  bowed,  and  hid  the  god  and  the  mortal  woman. 
And  he  undid  her  maiden  girdle,  and  shed  a  slumber  over 
her.  Now  when  the  god  had  done  the  work  of  love,  he 
clasped  her  hand  and  spake  and  hailed  her: 

*  "  Woman,  be  glad  in  our  love,  and  when  the  year  comes 
round  thou  shalt  give  birth  to  glorious  children, — for  not 
weak  are  the  embraces  of  the  gods, — and  do  thou  keep  and 
cherish  them.  And  now  go  home  and  hold  thy  peace,  and 
tell  it  not ;  but  behold,  I  am  Poseidon,  shaker  of  the  earth.** 

N  a 


l8o  ODYSSEY  XI,  253-285. 

*  Therewith  he  plunged  beneath  the  heaving  deep.  And 
she  conceived  and  bare  Pelias  and  Neleus,  who  both  grew 
to  be  mighty  men,  servants  of  Zeus.  Pelias  dwelt  in  wide 
lolcos,  and  was  rich  in  flocks;  and  that  other  abode  in 
sandy  Pylos.  And  the  queen  of  women  bare  yet  other  sons 
to  Cretheus,  even  Aeson  and  Pheres  and  Amythaon,  whose 
joy  was  in  chariots. 

*  And  after  her  I  saw  Antiope,  daughter  of  Asopus,  and  her 
boast  was  that  she  had  slept  even  in  the  arms  of  Zeus,  and 
she  bare  two  sons,  Amphion  and  Zethus,  who  founded  first 
the  place  of  seven-gated  Thebes,  and  they  made  of  it  a 
fenced  city,  for  they  might  not  dwell  in  spacious  Thebes 
unfenced,  for  all  their  valiancy.    ^ 

*  Next  to  her  I  saw  Alcmene,  wife  of  Amphitryon,  who  lay 
in  the  arms  of  mighty  Zeus,  and  bare  Heracles  of  the  lion- 
heart,  steadfast  in  the  fight.  And  I  saw  Megara,  daughter  of 
Creon,  haughty  of  heart,  whom  the  strong  and  tireless  son 
of  Amphitryon  had  to  wife. 

*  And  I  saw  the  mother  of  Oedipodes,  fair  Epicaste,  who 
wrought  a  dread  deed  unwittingly,  being  wedded  to  her  own 
son,  and  he  that  had  slain  his  own  father  wedded  her,  and 
straightway  the  gods  made  these  things  known  to  men.  Yet 
he  abode  in  pain  in  pleasant  Thebes,  ruling  the  Cadmaeans, 
by  reason  of  the  deadly  counsels  of  the  gods.  But  she  went 
down  to  the  house  of  Hades,  the  mighty  warder ;  yea,  she 
tied  a  noose  from  the  high  beam  aloft,  being  fast  holden 
in  sorrow;  while  for  him  she  left  pains  behind  full  many, 
even  all  that  the  Avengers  of  a  mother  bring  to  pass. 

*And  I  saw  lovely  Chloris,  whom  Neleus  wedded  on  a 
time  for  her  beauty,  and  brought  gifts  of  wooing  past  number. 
She  was  the  youngest  daughter  of  Amphion,  son  of  lasus, 
who  once  ruled  mightily  in  Minyan  Orchomenus.  And  she 
was  queen  of  Pylos,  and  bare  glorious  children  to  her  lord, 


ODYSSEY  XT,  286-317.  181 

Nestor  and  Chvomius,  and  princely  Periclymenus,  and  stately 
Pero  too,  the  wonder  of  all  men.  All  that  dwelt  around 
were  her  wooers ;  but  Neleus  would  not  give  her,  save  to  him 
who  should  drive  off  from  Phylace  the  kine  of  mighty 
Iphicles,  with  shambling  gait  and  broad  of  brow,  hard  catde 
to  drive.  And  none  but  the  noble  seer  *  took  in  hand  to 
drive  them ;  but  a  grievous  fate  from  the  gods  fettered  him, 
even  hard  bonds  and  the  herdsmen  of  the  wild.  But  when 
at  length  the  months  and  days  were  being  fulfilled,  as  the 
year  returned  upon  his  course,  and  the  seasons  came  round, 
then  did  mighty  Iphicles  set  him  free,  when  he  had  spoken 
out  all  the  oracles ;  and  herein  was  the  counsel  of  Zeus 
being  accomplished. 

'And  I  saw  Lede,  the  famous  bed-fellow  of  Tyndareus. 
who  bare  to  Tyndareus  two  sons,  hardy  of  heart.  Castor 
tamer  of  steeds,  and  Polydeuces  the  boxer.  These  twain 
yet  live,  but  the  quickening  earth  is  over  them ;  and  even 
in  the  nether  world  they  have  honour  at  the  hand  of  Zeus. 
And  they  possess  their  life  in  turn,  living  one  day  and  dying 
the  next,  and  they  have  gotten  worship  even  as  the  gods. 

*  And  after  her  I  beheld  Iphimedeia,  bed-fellow  of  Aloeus, 
who  said  that  she  had  lain  with  Poseidon,  and  she  bare 
children  twain,  but  short  of  life  were  they,  godlike  Otus  and 
far-famed  Ephialtes.  Now  these  were  the  tallest  men  that 
earth,  the  graingiver,  ever  reared,  and  far  the  goodliest  after 
the  renowned  Orion.  At  nine  seasons  old  they  were  of 
breadth  nine  cubits,  and  nine  fathoms  in  height.  They  it 
was  who  threatened  to  raise  even  against  the  immortals  in 
Olympus  the  din  of  stormy  war.  They  strove  to  pile  Ossa 
on  Olympus,  and  on  Ossa  Pelion  with  the  trembling  forest 
leaves,  that  there  might  be  a  pathway  to  the  sky.  Yea, 
and  they  would  have  accomplished  it,  had  they  reached  the 

♦  Melampus. 


1 8  2  OD  VSSE  V  XI,  3 1 7-349. 

full  measure  of  manhood.  But  the  son  of  Zeus,  whom  Leto 
of  the  fair  locks  bare,  destroyed  the  twain,  ere  the  down 
had  bloomed  beneath  their  temples,  and  darkened  their 
chins  with  the  blossom  of  youth. 

*And  Phaedra  and  Procris  I  saw,  and  fair  Ariadne,  the 
daughter  of  wizard  Minos,  whom  Theseus  on  a  time  was 
bearing  from  Crete  to  the  hill  of  sacred  Athens,  yet  had 
he  no  joy  of  her ;  for  Artemis  slew  her  ere  that  in  sea-girt 
Dia,  by  reason  of  the  witness  of  Dionysus. 

*And  Maera  and  Clymene  I  saw,  and  hateful  Eriphyle, 
who  took  fine  gold  for  the  price  of  her  dear  lord's  life. 
But  I  cannot  tell  or  name  all  the  wives  and  daughters  of 
the  heroes  that  I  saw;  ere  that,  the  immortal  night  would 
wane.  Nay,  it  is  even  now  time  to  sleep,  whether  I  go  to 
the  swift  ship  to  my  company  or  abide  here :  and  for 
my^  convoy  you  and  the  gods  will  care.' 

So  spake  he,  and  dead  silence  fell  on  all,  and  they  were 
spell-bound  throughout  the  shadowy  halls.  Then  Arete  of  the 
white  arms  first  spake  among  them :  *  Phaeacians,  what  think 
you  of  this  man  for  comeliness  and  stature,  and  within  for 
wisdom  of  heart  ?  Moreover  he  is  my  guest,  though  every 
one  of  you  hath  his  share  in  this  honour.  Wherefore  haste 
not  to  send  him  hence,  and  stint  not  these  your  gifts  for  one 
that  stands  in  such  sore  need  of  them ;  for  ye  have  much 
treasure  stored  in  your  halls  by  the  grace  of  the  gods.' 

Then  too  spake  among  them  the  old  man,  lord  Echeneus, 
that  was  an  elder  among  the  Phaeacians  :  '  Friends,  behold, 
the  speech  of  our  wise  queen  is  not  wide  of  the  mark,  nor  far 
from  our  deeming,  so  hearken  ye  thereto.  But  on  Alcinous 
here  both  word  and  work  depend.* 

Then  Alcinous  made  answer,  and  spake  unto  him  :  'Yea, 
the  word  that  she  hath  spoken  shall  hold,  if  indeed  I  am 
yet  to  Uve  and  bear  rule  among  the  Phaeacians,  masters  of 


OD  YSSE V  XI,  350-381.  1 83 

the  oar.  Howbeit  let  the  stranger,  for  all  his  craving  to 
return,  nevertheless  endure  to  abide  until  the  morrow,  till  I 
make  up  the  full  measure  of  the  gift ;  and  men  shall  care  for 
his  convoy,  all  men,  but  I  in  chief,  for  mine  is  the  lordship 
in  the  land.* 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him,  saying: 
'My  lord  Alcinous,  most  notable  of  all  the  people,  if  ye 
bade  me  tarry  here  even  for  a  year,  and  would  speed  my 
convoy  and  give  me  splendid  gifts,  even  that  I  would  choose  ; 
and  better  would  it  be  for  me  to  come  with  a  fuller  hand 
to  mine  own  dear  country,  so  should  I  get  more  love  and 
worship  in  the  eyes  of  all  men,  whoso  should  see  me  after 
I  was  returned  to  Ithaca/ 

And  Alcinous  answered  him,  saying :  *  Odysseus,  in  no 
wise  do  we  deem  thee,  we  that  look  on  thee,  to  be  a  knave  or 
a  cheat,  even  as  the  dark  earth  rears  many  such  broadcast, 
fashioning  lies  whence  none  can  even  see  his  way  therein. 
But  beauty  crowns  thy  words,  and  wisdom  is  within  ihee ;  and 
thy  tale,  as  when  a  minstrel  sings,  thou  hast  told  with  skill,  the 
weary  woes  of  all  the  Argives  and  of  thine  own  self.  But 
come,  declare  me  this  and  plainly  tell  it  all.  Didst  thou  see 
any  of  thy  godlike  company  who  went  up  at  the  same  time 
with  thee  to  Ilios  and  there  met  their  doom }  Behold,  the 
night  is  of  great  length,  unspeakable,  and  the  time  for  sleep 
in  the  hall  is  not  yet ;  tell  me  therefore  of  those  wondrous 
deeds.  I  could  abide  even  till  the  bright  dawn,  so  long  as 
thou  couldst  endure  to  rehearse  me  these  woes  of  thine  in 
the  hall.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him,  saying : 
*My  lord  Alcinous,  most  notable  of  all  the  people,  there  is  a 
time  for  many  words  and  there  is  a  time  for  sleep.  But  if 
thou  art  eager  still  to  listen,  I  would  not  for  my  part  grudge 
to  tell  thee  of  other  things  \nore  pitiful  still,  even  the  woes  of 


1 84  ODVSSEV  XI,  382-414. 

my  comrades,  those  that  perished  afterward,  for  they  had  es- 
caped with  their  lives  from  the  dread  war-cry  of  the  Trojans, 
but  perished  in  returning  by  the  will  of  an  evil  woman. 

*  Now  when  holy  Persephone  had  scattered  this  way  and 
that  the  spirits  of  the  women  folk,  thereafter  came  the  soul 
of  Agamemnon,  son  of  Atreus,  sorrowing;  and  round  him 
others  were  gathered,  the  ghosts  of  them  who  had  died  with 
him  in  the  house  of  Aegisthus  and  met  their  doom.  And  he 
knew  me  straightway  when  he  had  drunk  the  dark  blood,  yea, 
and  he  wept  aloud,  and  shed  big  tears  as  he  stretched  forth 
his  hands  in  his  longing  to  reach  me.  But  it  might  not  be, 
for  he  had  now  no  steadfast  strength  nor  power  at  all  to 
move,  such  as  was  aforetime  in  his  supple  limbs. 

*  At  the  sight  of  him  I  wept  and  was  moved  with  com- 
passion, and  uttering  my  voice,  spake  to  him  winged  words : 
"  Most  renowned  son  of  Atreus,  Agamemnon,  king  of  men, 
say  what  doom  overcame  thee  of  death  that  lays  men  at 
their  length  ?  Did  Poseidon  smite  thee  in  thy  ships,  raising 
the  dolorous  blast  of  contrary  winds,  or  did  unfriendly  men 
do  thee  hurt  upon  the  land,  whilst  thou  wert  cutting  off  their 
oxen  and  fair  flocks  of  sheep,  or  fighting  to  win  a  city  and 
the  women  thereof? " 

*  So  spake  I,  and  straightway  he  answered,  and  said  unto 
me  :  "  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  it  was  not  Poseidon  that  smote  me  in  my  ships,  and 
raised  the  dolorous  blast  of  contrary  winds,  nor  did  unfriendjy 
men  do  me  hurt  upon  the  land,  but  Aegisthus  it  was  that 
wrought  me  death  and  doom  and  slew  me,  with  the  aid  of 
my  accursed  wife,  as  one  slays  an  ox  at  the  stall,  after  he  had 
bidden  me  to  his  house,  and  entertained  me  at  a  feast.  Even 
so  I  died  by  a  death  most  pitiful,  and  round  me  my  company 
likewise  were  slain  without  ceasing,  like  swine  with  glittering 
tusks  which  are  slaughtered  in  the  house  of  a  rich  and  mighty 


ODYSSEY  XT,  415-450.  185 

man,  whether  at  a  wedding  banquet  or  a  joint-feast  or  a  rich 
clan-drinking.  Ere  now  hast  thou  been  at  the  slaying  of 
many  a  man,  killed  in  single  fight  or  in  strong  battle,  yet 
thou  wouldst  have  sorrowed  the  most  at  this  sight,  how  we 
lay  in  the  hall  round  the  mixing-bowl  and  the  laden  boards, 
and  the  floor  all  ran  with  blood.  And  most  pitiful  of  all  that 
I  heard  was  the  voice  of  the  daughter  of  Priam,  of  Cassandra, 
whom  hard  by  me  the  crafty  Clytemnestra  slew.  Then  I 
strove  to  raise  my  hands  as  I  was  dying  upon  the  sword,  but  to 
earth  they  fell.  And  that  shameless  one  turned  her  back  upon 
me,  and  had  not  the  heart  to  draw  down  my  eyelids  with  her 
fingers  nor  to  close  my  mouth.  So  surely  is  there  nought  more 
terrible  and  shameless  than  a  wom^an  who  imagines  such  evil  in 
her  heart,  even  as  she  too  planned  a  foul  deed,  fashioning  death 
for  her  gentle  lord.  Verily  I  had  thought  to  come  home  most 
welcome  to  my  children  and  my  thralls ;  but  she,  out  of  the 
depth  of  her  evil  knowledge,  hath  shed  shame  on  herself  and  on 
all  womankind,  which  shall  be  for  ever,  even  on  the  upright." 

'Even  so  he  spake,  but  I  answered  him,  saying:  "Lo 
now,  in  very  sooth,  hath  Zeus  of  the  far-borne  voice  wreaked 
wondrous  hatred  on  the  seed  of  Atreus  through  the  counsels 
of  woman  from  of  old.  For  Helen's  sake  so  many  of  us 
perished,  and  now  Clytemnestra  hath  practised  treason 
against  thee,  while  yet  thou  wast  afar  off." 

'Even  so  I  spake,  and  anon  he  answered  me,  saying: 
"  Wherefore  do  thou  too,  never  henceforth  be  soft  even  to 
thy  wife,  neither  show  her  all  the  counsel  that  thou  knowest, 
but  a  part  declare  and  let  part  be  hid.  Yet  shalt  not  thou, 
Odysseus,  find  death  at  the  hand  of  thy  wife,  for  she  is  very 
discreet  and  prudent  in  all  her  ways,  the  wise  Penelope, 
daughter  of  Icarius.  Verily  we  left  her  a  bride  new  wed 
when  we  went  to  the  war,  and  a  child  was  at  her  breast,  who 
now,  methinks,  sits  in  the  ranks  of  men,  happy  in  his  lot,  for 


i86  ODYSSEY  XI,  450-483. 

his  dear  father  shall  behold  him  on  his  coming,  and  he  shall 
embrace  his  sire  as  is  meet.  But  as  for  ray  wife,  she  suffered 
me  not  so  much  as  to  have  my  fill  of  gazing  on  my  son;  ere 
that  she  slew  me,  even  her  lord.  And  yet  another  thing  will 
I  tell  thee,  and  do  thou  ponder  it  in  thy  heart.  Put  thy  ship 
to  land  in  secret,  and  not  openly,  on  the  shore  of  thy  dear 
country ;  for  there  is  no  more  faith  in  woman.  But  come, 
declare  me  this  and  plainly  tell  it  all,  if  haply  ye  hear  of  my 
son  as  yet  living,  either,  it  may  be,  in  Orchomenus  or  in 
sandy  Pylos,  or  perchance  with  Menelaus  in  wide  Sparta,  for 
goodly  Orestes  hath  not  yet  perished  on  the  earth." 

*  Even  so  he  spake,  but  I  answered  him,  saying :  "  Son 
of  Atreus,  wherefore  dost  thou  ask  me  straitly  of  these 
things?  Nay  I  know  not  at  all,  whether  he  be  alive  or 
dead ;  it  is  ill  to  speak  words  light  as  wind." 

*  Thus  we  twain  stood  sorrowing,  holding  sad  discourse, 
while  the  big  tears  fell  fast :  and  therewithal  came  the  soul  of 
Achilles,  son  of  Peleus,  and  of  Patroclus  and  of  noble  Anti- 
lochus  and  of  Aias,  who  in  face  and  form  was  goodliest  of 
all  the  Danaans,  after  the  noble  son  of  Peleus.  And  the  spirit 
of  the  son  of  Aeacus,  fleet  of  foot,  knew  me  again,  and 
making  lament  spake  to  me  winged  words  : 

*  "  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  man  overbold,  what  new  deed  and  hardier  than  this 
wilt  thou  devise  in  thy  heart  ?  How  durst  thou  come  down 
to  the  house  of  Hades,  where  dwell  the  senseless  dead,  the 
phantoms  of  men  outworn } " 

*  So  he  spake,  but  I  answered  him  :  "  Achilles,  son  of 
Peleus,  mightiest  far  of  the  Achaeans,  I  am  come  hither  to 
seek  to  Teiresias,  if  he  may  tell  me  any  counsel,  how  I  may 
come  to  rugged  Ithaca.  For  not  yet  have  I  come  nigh  the 
Achaean  land,  nor  set  foot  on  mine  own  soil,  but  am  still  in 
evil  case ;  while  as  for  thee,  Achilles,  none  other  than  thou 


ODYSSEY  XT,  483-513.  187 

wast  heretofore  the  most  blessed  of  men,  nor  shall  any  be 
hereafter.  For  of  old,  in  the  days  of  thy  life,  we  Argives 
gave  thee  one  honour  with  the  gods,  and  now  thou  art  a  great 
prince  here  among  the  dead.  Wherefore  let  not  thy  death  be 
any  grief  to  thee,  Achilles/* 

'  Even  so  I  spake,  and'  he  straightway  answered  me,  and 
said  :  "  Nay,  speak  not  comfortably  to  me  of  death,  oh  great 
Odysseus.  Rather  would  I  live  on  ground  *  as  the  hireling 
of  another,  with  a  landless  man  who  had  no  great  livelihood, 
than  bear  sway  among  all  the  dead  that  be  departed.  But 
come,  tell  me  tidings  of  that  lordly  son  of  mine — did  he  follow 
to  the  war  to  be  a  leader  or  not  ?  And  tell  me  of  noble  Peleus, 
if  thou  hast  heard  aught, — is  he  yet  held  in  worship  among  the 
Myrmidons,  or  do  they  dishonour  him  from  Hellas  to  Phthia, 
for  that  old  age  binds  him  hand  and  foot?  For  I  am  no 
longer  his  champion  under  the  sun,  so  mighty  a  man  as  once 
I  was,  when  in  wide  Troy  I  slew  the  best  of  the  host,  and  suc- 
coured the  Argives.  Ah !  could  I  but  come  for  an  hour  to 
my  father's  house  as  then  I  was,  so  would  I  make  my  might 
and  hands  invincible,  to  be  hateful  to  many  an  one  of  those 
who  do  him  despite  and  keep  him  from  his  honour." 

*  Even  so  he  spake,  but  I  answered  him  saying :  "  As  for 
noble  Peleus,  verily  I  have  heard  nought  of  him ;  but  con- 
cerning thy  dear  son  Neoptolemus,  I  will  tell  thee  all  the  truth, 
according  to  thy  word.  It  was  I  that  led  him  up  out  of  Scyros 
in  my  good  hollow  ship,  in  the  wake  of  the  goodly-greaved 
Achaeans.  Now  oft  as  we  took  counsel  around  Troy  town, 
he  was  ever  the  first  to  speak,  and  no  word  missed  the  mark ; 
the  godlike  Nestor  and  I  alone  surpassed  him.  But  when- 
soever we  Achaeans  did  batde  on  the  plain  of  Troy,  he 


*  lirapovpos  seems  to  mean  'upon  the  earth,'  '  above  ground,'  as  opposed 
to  the  dead  who  are  below,  rather  than  'bovind  to  the  soil,'  in  which  sense 
most  commentators  take  it. 


l88  ODYSSEY  XI,  514-546. 

never  tarried  behind  in  the  throng  or  the  press  of  men,  but 
ran  out  far  before  us  all,  yielding  to  none  in  that  might  of 
his.  And  many  men  he  slew  in  warfare  dread ;  but  I  could 
not  tell  of  all  or  name  their  names,  even  all  the  host  he  slew 
in  succouring  the  Argives,  save  only  how  he  smote  with  the 
sword  that  son  of  Telephus,  the  hero  Eurypylus,  and  many 
Ceteians*  of  his  company  were  slain  around  him,  by  reason 
of  a  woman's  bribe.  He  truly  was  the  comeliest  man  that  ever 
I  saw,  next  to  goodly  Memnon.  And  again  when  we,  the  best 
of  the  Argives,  were  about  to  go  down  into  the  horse  which 
Epeus  wrought,  and  the  charge  of  all  was  laid  on  me,  both 
to  open  the  door  of  our  good  ambush  and  to  shut  the  same, 
then  did  the  other  princes  and  counsellors  of  the  Danaans 
wipe  away  the  tears,  and  the  limbs  of  each  one  trembled 
beneath  him,  but  never  once  did  I  see  thy  son's  fair  face  wax 
pale,  nor  did  he  wipe  the  tears  from  his  cheeks :  but  he  be- 
souo^ht  me  often  to  let  him  go  forth  from  the  horse,  and  kept 
handling  his  sword-hilt,  and  his  heavy  bronze-shod  spear,  and 
he  was  set  on  mischief  against  the  Trojans.  But  after  we  had 
sacked  the  steep  city  of  Priam,  he  embarked  unscathed  with 
his  share  of  the  spoil,  and  with  a  noble  prize;  he  was  not 
smitten  with  the  sharp  spear,  and  got  no  w^ound  in  close 
fight:  and  many  such  chances  there  be  in  war,  for  Ares 
rageth  confusedly." 

*  So  I  spake,  and  the  spirit  of  the  son  of  Aeacus,  fleet  of 
foot,  passed  with  great  strides  along  the  mead  of  asphodel, 
rejoicing  in  that  I  had  told  him  of  his  son's  renown. 

*  But  lo,  other  spirits  of  the  dead  that  be  departed  stood 
sorrowing,  and  each  one  asked  of  those  that  were  dear  to 
them.  The  soul  of  Aias  son  of  Telamon,  alone  stood 
apart  being  still  angry  for  the  victory  wherein  I  prevailed 
against  him,  in  the  suit  by  the  ships  concerning  the  arms  of 

*  See  Lenormant,  Premieres  Civilisations,  vol.  i.  p.  289. 


ODYSSEY  XI,  546-575.  189 

Achilles,  that  his  lady  mother  had  set  for  a  prize ;  and  the 
sons  of  the  Trojans  made  award  and  Pallas  Athene.  Would 
that  I  had  never  prevailed  and  won  such  a  prize  !  So  goodly 
a  head  hath  the  earth  closed  over,  for  the  sake  of  those  arms, 
even  over  Aias,  who  in  beauty  and  in  feats  of  war  was  of  a 
mould  above  all  the  other  Danaans,  next  to  the  noble  son  of 
Peleus.     To  him  then  I  spake  softly,  saying : 

*  "  Aias,  son  of  noble  Telamon,  so  art  thou  not  even  in 
death  to  forget  thy  wrath  against  me,  by  reason  of  those  arms 
accursed,  which  the  gods  set  to  be  the  bane  of  the  Argives  ? 
What  a  tower  of  strength  fell  in  thy  fall,  and  we  Achaeans 
cease  not  to  sorrow  for  thee,  even  as  for  the  life  of  Achilles, 
son  of  Peleus !  Nay,  there  is  none  other  to  blame,  but  Zeus, 
who  hath  borne  wondrous  hate  to  the  army  of  the  Danaan 
spearsmen,  and  laid  on  thee  thy  doom.  Nay,  come  hither, 
my  lord,  that  thou  mayest  hear  my  word  and  my  speech ; 
master  thy  wrath  and  thy  proud  spirit." 

*  So  I  spake,  but  he  answered  me  not  a  word  and  passed 
to  Erebus  after  the  other  spirits  of  the  dead  that  be  de- 
parted. Even  then,  despite  his  anger,  would  he  have  spoken 
to  me  or  I  to  him,  but  my  heart  within  me  was  minded 
to  see  the  spirits  of  those  others  that  were  departed. 

/  *  There  then  I  saw  Minos,  glorious  son  of  Zeus,  wielding 
a  golden  sceptre,  giving  sentence  from  his  throne  to  the  dead, 
while  they  sat  and  stood  around  the  prince,  asking  his  dooms 
through  the  wide-gated  house  of  Hades.  ^'' 

*  And  after  him  I  marked  the  mighty  Orion  driving  the  wild 
beasts  together  over  the  mead  of  asphodel,  the  very  beasts 
that  himself  had  slain  on  the  lonely  hills,  with  a  strong  mace 
all  of  bronze  in  his  hands  *,  that  is  ever  unbroken. 
N^'And  I  saw  Tityos,  son  of  renowned  Earth,  lying  on  a 

*  i-xojv  in  strict  grammar  agrees  with  avros  in  574,  but  this  is  merely  by 
attraction,  for  in  sense  it  refers  not  to  the  living  man,  but  to  his  phantom. 


190  ODYSSEY  XT,  577-606 

levelled  ground,  and  he  covered  nine  roods  as  he  lay,  and 
vultures  twain  beset  him  one  on  either  side,  and  gnawed- at 
his  liver,  piercing  even  to  the  caul,  but  he  drave  them  not 
away  with  his  hands.  For  he  had  dealt  violently  with  Leto, 
the  famous  bedfellow  of  Zeus,  as  she  went  up  to  Pytho 
through  the  fair  lawns  of  Panopeus. 

'  Moreover  I  beheld  Tantalus  in  grievous  torment,  stand- 
ing in  a  mere  and  the  water  came  nigh  unto  his  chin.  And 
he  stood  straining  as  one  athirst,  but  he  might  not  attain  to 
the  water  to  drink  of  it.  For  often  as  that  old  man  stooped 
down  in  his  eagerness  to  drink,  so  often  the  water  was  swal- 
lowed up  and  it  vanished  away,  and  the  black  earth  still 
showed  at  his  feet,  for  some  god  parched  it  evermore.  And 
tall  trees  flowering  shed  their  fruit  overhead,  pears  and  pome- 
granates and  apple  trees  with  bright  fruit,  and  sweet  figs  and 
olives  in  their  bloom,  whereat  when  that  old  man  reached 
out  his  hands  to  clutch  them,  the  wind  would  toss  them  to 
the  shadowy  clouds.       ^^ 

*  Yea  and  I  beheld  Sisyphus  in  strong  torment,  grasping 
a  monstrous  stone  with  both  his  hands.  He  was  pressing 
thereat  with  hands  and  feet,  and  trying  to  roll  the  stone 
upward  toward  the  brow  of  the  hill.  But  oft  as  he  was  about 
to  hurl  it  over  the  top,  the  weight  would  drive  him  back,  so 
once  again  to  the  plain  rolled  the  stone,  the  shameless  thing. 
And  he  once  more  kept  heaving  and  straining,  and  the  sweat 
the  while  was  pouring  down  his  limbs,  and  the  dust  rose 
upwards  from  his  head.  . 

*  And  after  him  I  descried  the  mighty  Heracles,  his  phan- 
tom, I  say;  but  as  for  himself  he  hath  joy  at  the  banquet 
among  the  deathless  gods,  and  hath  to  wife  Hebe  of  the  fair 
ankles,  child  of  great  Zeus,  and  of  Here  of  the  golden  sandals. 
And  all  about  him  there  was  a  clamour  of  the  dead,  as  it  were 
fowls  flying  every  way  in  fear,  and  he  like  black  Night,  with 


\ 


ODYSSEY  XI,  607-640.  191 

bow  uncased,  and  shaft  upon  the  string,  fiercely  glancing 
around,  like  one  in  the  act  to  shoot.  And  about  his  breast 
was  an  awful  belt,  a  baldric  of  gold,  whereon  wondrous 
things  were  wrought,  bears  and  wild  boars  and  lions  with 
flashing  eyes,  and  strife  and  battles  and  slaughters  and  mur- 
ders of  men.  Nay,  now  that  he  hath  fashioned  this,  never 
another  may  he  fashion,  whoso  stored  in  his  craft  the  device 
of  that  belt  I  And  anon  he  knew  me  when  his  eyes  beheld 
me,  and  making  lament  he  spake  unto  me  winged  words : 

* "  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices :  ah  !  wretched  one,  dost  thou  too  lead  such  a  life  of 
evil  doom,  as  I  endured  beneath  the  rays  of  the  sun  ?  I  was 
the  son  of  Zeus  Cronion,  yet  had  I  trouble  beyond  measure, 
for  I  was  subdued  unto  a  man  far  worse  than  I.  And  he 
enjoined  on  me  hard  adventures,  yea  and  on  a  time  he  sent 
me  hither  to  bring  back  the  hound  of  hell ;  for  he  devised  no 
harder  task  for  me  than  this.  I  lifted  the  hound  and  brought 
him  forth  from  out  of  the  house  of  Hades ;  and  Hermes  sped 
me  on  my  way  and  the  grey-eyed  Athene." 

*  Therewith  he  departed  again  into  the  house  of  Hades, 
but  I  abode  there  still,  if  perchance  some  one  of  the  hero 
folk  besides  might  come,  who  died  in  old  time.  Yea  and  I 
should  have  seen  the  men  of  old,  whom  I  was  fain  to  look 
on,  Theseus  and  Peirithous,  renowned  children  of  the  gods. 
But  ere  that  might  be  the  myriad  tribes  of  the  dead  thronged 
up  together  with  wondrous  clamour :  and  pale  fear  gat  hold 
of  me,  lest  the  high  goddess  Persephone  should  send  me  the 
head  of  the  Gorgon,  that  dread  monster,  from  out  of  Hades. 

*  Straightway  then  I  went  to  the  ship,  and  bade  my  men 
mount  the  vessel,  and  loose  the  hawsers.  So  speedily  they 
went  on  board,  and  sat  upon  the  benches.  And  the  wave  of 
the  flood  bore  the  barque  down  the  stream  of  Oceanus,  we 
rowing  first,  and  afterwards  the  fair  wind  was  our  convoy. 


f\ 


BOOK   XIL 

Odysseus,  his  passage  by  the  Sirens,  and  by  Scylla  and  Charybdis. 
The  sacrilege  committed  by  his  men  in  the  isle  1  hrinacia.  The  destruc- 
tion of  his  ships  and  men.  How  he  swam  on  a  plank  nine  days  together, 
and  came  to  Ogygia,  where  he  stayed  seven  years  with  Calypso. 

'Now  after  the  ship  had  left  the  stream  of  the  river 
Oceanus,  and  was  come  to  the  wave  of  the  wide  sea,  and  the 
isle  Aeaean,  where  is  the  dweUing  place  of  early  Dawn  and 
her  dancing  grounds,  and  the  land  of  sunrising,  upon  our 
coming  thither  we  beached  the  ship  in  the  sand,  and  our- 
selves too  stept  ashore  on  the  sea  beach.  There  we  fell  on 
sound  sleep  and  awaited  the  bright  Dawn. 

*  So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered,  I 
sent  forth  my  fellows  to  the  house  of  Circe  to  fetch  the  body 
of  the  dead  Elpenor.  And  speedily  we  cut  billets  of  wood 
and  sadly  we  buried  him,  where  the  furthest  headland  runs 
out  into  the  sea,  shedding  big  tears.  But  when  the  dead 
man  was  burned  and  the  arms  of  the  dead,  we  piled  a  barrow 
and  dragged  up  thereon  a  pillar,  and  on  the  topmost  mound 
we  set  the  shapen  oar. 

*  Now  all  that  task  we  finished,  and  our  coming  from  out 
of  Hades  was  not  unknown  to  Circe,  but  she  arrayed  herself 
and  speedily  drew  nfgh,  and  her  handmaids  with  her  bare 
flesh  and  bread  in  plenty  and  dark  red  wine.  And  the  fair 
goddess  stood  in  the  midst  and  spake  in  our  ears,  saying : 

* "  Men  overbold,  who  have  gone  alive  into  the  house  of 
Hades,  to  know  death  twice,  while  all  men  else  die  once  for 


ODYSSEY  XII,  23-55.  193 

all.  Nay  come,  eat  ye  meat  and  drink  wine  here  all  day 
long ;  and  with  the  breaking  of  the  day  ye  shall  set  sail,  and 
myself  I  will  show  you  the  path  and  declare  each  thing,  that 
ye  may  not  suffer  pain  or  hurt  through  any  grievous  ill- 
contrivance  by  sea  or  on  the  land." 

*  So  spake  she,  and  our  lordly  souls  consented  thereto. 
Thus  for  that  time  we  sat  the  livelong  day,  until  the  going 
down  of  the  sun,  feasting  on  abundant  flesh  and  on  sweet 
wine.  Now  when  the  sun  sank  and  darkness  came  on,  my 
company  laid  them  to  rest  by  the  hawsers  of  the  ship.  Then 
she  took  me  by  the  hand  and  led  me  apart  from  my  dear 
company,  and  made  me  to  sit  down  and  laid  herself  at  my 
feet,  and  asked  all  my  tale.  And  I  told  her  all  in  order  duly* 
Then  at  the  last  the  lady  Circe  spake  unto  me,  saying : 

' "  Even  so,  now  all  these  things  have  an  end ;  do  thou 
then  hearken  even  as  I  tell  thee,  and  the  god  himself  shall 
bring  it  back  to  thy  mind.  To  the  Sirens  first  shalt  thou 
come,  who  bewitch  all  men,  whosoever  shall  come  to  them. 
Whoso  draws  nigh  them  unwittingly  and  hears  the  sound  of 
the  Sirens'  voice,  never  doth  he  see  wife  or  babes  stand  by 
him  on  his  return,  nor  have  they  joy  at  his  coming;  but 
the  Sirens  enchant  him  with  their  clear  song,  sitting  in  the 
meadow,  and  all  about  is  a  great  heap  of  bones  of  men,  cor- 
rupt in  death,  and  round  the  bones  the  skin  is  wasting.  But 
do  thou  drive  thy  ship  past,  and  knead  honey-sweet  wax, 
and  anoint  therewith  the  ears  of  thy  company,  lest  any 
of  the  rest  hear  the  song ;  but  if  thou  thyself  art  minded 
to  hear,  let  them  bind  thee  in  the  swift  ship  hand  and  foot, 
upright  in  the  mast-stead,  and  from  the  mast  let  rope-ends 
be  tied,  that  with  delight  thou  mayest  hear  the  voice  of 
the  Sirens.  And  if  thou  shalt  beseech  thy  company  and 
bid  them  to  loose  thee,  then  let  them  bind  thee  with  yet 
more  bonds.     But  when  thy  friends  have  driven  thy  ship 

o 


J 


194  ODYSSEY  XII y  56-88. 

past  these,  I  will  not  tell  thee  fully  which  path  shall  thence- 
forth be  thine,  but  do  thou  thyself  consider  it,  and  I  will 
speak  to  thee  of  either  way.  On  the  one  side  there  are 
beetling  rocks,  and  against  them  the  great  wave  roars  of 
dark-eyed  Amphitrite.  These,  ye  must  know,  are  they  the 
blessed  gods  call  the  Rocks  Wandering.  By  this  way  even 
winged  things  may  never  pass,  nay,  not  even  the  cowering 
doves  that  bear  ambrosia  to  Father  Zeus,  but  the  sheer 
rock  evermore  takes  away  one  even  of  these,  and  the 
Father  sends  in  another  to  make  up  the  tale.  Thereby 
no  ship  of  men  ever  escapes  that  comes  thither,  but  the 
planks  of  ships  and  the  bodies  of  men  confusedly  are 
—  tossed  by  the  waves  of  the  sea  and  the  storms  of  ruinous 
fire.  One  ship  only  of  all  that  fare  by  sea  hath  passed  that 
way,  even  Argo,  that  is  in  all  men's  minds,  on  her  voyage 
from  JEetes.  And  even  her  the  wave  would  lightly  have 
cast  there  upon  the  mighty  rocks,  but  Here  sent  her  by  for 
love  of  Jason. 

* "  On  the  other  part  are  two  rocks,  whereof  the  one 
reaches  with  sharp  peak  to  the  wide  heaven,  and  a  dark 
cloud  encompasses  it ;  this  never  streams  away,  and  there  is 
no  clear  air  about  the  peak  neither  in  summer  nor  in  harvest 
tide.  No  mortal  man  may  scale  it  or  set  foot  thereon,  not 
though  he  had  twenty  hands  and  feet.  For  the  rock  is 
smooth,  and  sheer,  as  it  were  polished.  And  in  the  midst 
of  the  cliff  is  a  dim  cave  turned  to  Erebus,  towards  the 
place  of  darkness,  whereby  ye  shall  even  steer  your  hollow 
ship,  noble  Odysseus.  Not  with  an  arrow  from  a  bow 
might  a  man  in  his  strength  reach  from  his  hollow  ship 
into  that  deep  cave.  And  therein  dwelleth  Scylla,  yelping 
terribly.  Her  voice  indeed  is  no  greater  than  the  voice  of 
a  new-born  whelp,  but  a  dreadful  monster  is  she,  nor  would 
any  look  on  her  gladly,  not  if  it  were  a  god  that  met  her. 


ODYSSEY  XII,  89-130.  195 

Verily  she  hath  twelve  feet  all  dangling  down^*,  and  six  necks 
exceeding  long,  and  on  each  a  hideous  head,  and  therein 
three  rows  of  teeth  set  thick  and  close,  full  of  black  death. 
Up  to  her  middle  is  she  sunk  far  down  in  the  hollow  cave, 
but  forth  she  holds  her  heads  from  the  dreadful  gulf,  and 
there  she  fishes,  swooping  round  the  rock,  for  dolphins  or 
sea-dogs,  or  whatso  greater  beast  she  may  anywhere  take, 
whereof  the  deep-voiced  Amphitrite  feeds  countless  flocks. 
Thereby  no  sailors  boast  that  they  have  fled  scatheless  ever 
with  their  ship,  for  with  each  head  she  carries  off"  a  man, 
whom  she  hath  snatched  from  out  the  dark-prowed  ship. 

*"But  that  other  cliff",  Odysseus,  thou  shalt  note,  lying 
Tower,  hard  by  the  first :  thou  couldest  send  an  arrow  across. 
And  thereon  is  a  great  fig-tree  growing,  in  fullest  leaf,  and 
beneath  it  mighty  Charybdis  sucks  down  black  water,  for 
thrice  a  day  she  spouts  it  forth,  and  thrice  a  day  she  sucks 
it  down  in  terrible  wise.  Never  mayest  thou  be  there  when 
she  sucks  the  water,  for  none  might  save  thee  then  from 
thy  bane,  not  even  the  Earth-shaker!  But  take  heed  and 
swiftly  drawing  nigh  to  Scylla's  rock  drive  the  ship  past, 
since  of  a  truth  it  is  far  better  to  mourn  six  of  thy  company 
in  the  ship,  than  all  in  the  selfsame  hour." 

*  So  spake  she,  but  I  answered,  and  said  unto  her : 
"Come  I  pray  thee  herein,  goddess,  tell  me  true,  if  there 
be  any  means  whereby  I  might  escape  from  the  deadly 
Charybdis  and  avenge  me  on  that  other,  when  she  would 
prey  upon  my  company." 

'  So  spake  I,  and  that  fair  goddess  answered  me :  "  Man 
overbold,  lo,  now  again  the  deeds  of  war  are  in  thy  mind 
and  the  travail  thereof.  Wilt  thou  not  yield  thee  even  to 
the  deathless  gods  ?  As  for  her,  she  is  no  mortal,  but  an 
immortal  plague,  dread,  grievous,  and  fierce,  and  not  to 
be   fought  with;    and  against   her   there   is    no    defcnce; 

o  a 


195  ODYSSEY  XII,   120-15^2. 

flight  is  the  bravest  way.  For  if  thou  tarry  to  do  on 
thine  armour  by  the  diff,  I  fear  lest  once  again  she  sally 
forth  and  catch  at  thee  with  so  many  heads,  and  seize  as 
many  men  as  before.  So  drive  past  with  all  thy  force, 
and  call  on  Cratais,  mother  of  Scylla,  which  bore  her  for 
a  bane  to  mortals.  And  she  will  then  let  her  from  darting 
forth  thereafter. 

* "  Then  thou  shalt  come  unto  the  isle  Thrinacia ;  there 
are  the  many  kine  of  Helios  and  his  brave  flocks  feeding, 
seven  herds  of  kine  and  as  many  goodly  flocks  of  sheep, 
and  fifty  in  each  flock.  They  have  no  part  in  birth  or  in  cor- 
ruption, and  there  are  goddesses  to  shepherd  them,  nymphs 
with  fair  tresses,  Phaethusa  and  Lampetie  whom  bright 
Neaera  bare  to  Helios  Hyperion.  Now  when  the  lady  their 
mother  had  borne  and  nursed  them,  she  carried  them  to 
the  isle  Thrinacia  to  dwell  afar,  that  they  should  guard  their 
father's  flocks  and  his  kine  with  shambling  gait.  If  thou 
doest  these  no  hurt,  being  heedful  of  thy  return,  truly  ye 
may  even  yet  reach  Ithaca,  albeit  in  evil  case.  But  if  thou 
hurtest  them,  I  foreshow  ruin  for  thy  ship  and  for  thy  men, 
and  even  though  thou  shouldest  thyself  escape,  late  shalt 
thou  return  in  evil  plight  with  the  loss  of  all  thy  company." 

*  So  spake  she,  and  anon  came  the  golden-throned  Dawn. 
Then  the  fair  goddess  took  her  way  up  the  island.  But  I 
departed  to  my  ship  and  roused  my  men  themselves  to 
mount  the  vessel  and  loose  the  hawsers.  And  speedily  they 
went  aboard  and  sat  upon  the  benches,  and  sitting  orderly 
smote  the  grey  sea  water  with  their  oars.  And  in  the  wake 
of  our  dark-prowed  ship  she  sent  a  favouring  wind  that  filled 
the  sails,  a  kindly  escort, — even  Circe  of  the  braided  tresses, 
a  dread  goddess  of  human  speech.  And  straightway  we 
set  in  order  the  gear  throughout  the  ship  and  sat  us  down, 
and  the  wind  and  the  helmsman  guided  our  barque^ 


ODYSSEY  XII,  153-184.  197 

*  Then  I  spake  among  my  company  'with  a  heavy  heart : 
"  Friends,  forasmuch  as  it  is  not  well  that  one  or  two  alone 
should  know  of  the  oracles  that  Circe,  the  fair  goddess,  spake 
unto  me,  therefore  will  I  declare  them,  that  with  foreknow- 
ledge we  may  die,  or  haply  shunning  death  and  destiny 
escape.  First  she  bade  us  avoid  the  sound  of  the  voice  of 
the  wondrous  Sirens,  and  their  field  of  flowers,  and  me  only 
she  bade  listen  to  their  voices.  So  bind  ye  me  in  a  hard 
bond,  that  I  may  abide  unmoved  in  my  place,  upright  in  the 
mast-stead,  and  from  the  mast  let  rope-ends  be  tied,  and  if 
I  beseech  and  bid  you  to  set  me  free,  then  do  ye  straiten  me 
with  yet  more  bonds." 

*  Thus  I  rehearsed  these  things  one  and  all,  and  declared 
them  to  my  company.  Meanwhile  our  good  ship  quickly 
came  to  the  island  of  the  Sirens  twain,  for  a  gentle  breeze 
sped  her  on  her  way.  Then  straightway  the  wind  ceased, 
and  lo,  there  was  a  windless  calm,  and  some  god  lulled  the 
waves.  Then  my  company  rose  up  and  drew  in  the  ship's 
sails,  and  stowed  them  in  the  hold  of  the  ship,  while  they  sat 
at  the  oars  and  whitened  the  water  with  their  polished  pine 
blades.  But  I  with  my  sharp  sword  cleft  in  pieces  a  great 
circle  of  wax,  and  with  my  strong  hands  kneaded  it.  And 
soon  the  wax  grew  warm,  for  that  my  great  might  con- 
strained it,  and  the  beam  of  the  lord  Helios,  son  of  Hyperion. 
And  I  anointed  therewith  the  ears  of  all  my  men  in  their 
order,  and  in  the  ship  they  bound  me  hand  and  foot  upright 
in  the  mast-stead,  and  from  the  mast  they  fastened  rope-ends 
and  themselves  sat  down,  and  smote  the  grey  sea  water  with 
their  oars.  But  when  the  ship  was  within  the  sound  of  a 
man's  shout  from  the  land,  we  fleeing  swiftly  on  our  way, 
the  Sirens  espied  the  swift  ship  speeding  toward  them,  and 
they  raised  their  clear-toned  song ; 

* "  Hither,  cortie  hither,  renowned  Odysseus,  great  glory 


198  ODYSSEY  XII,   185-215. 

of  the  Achaeans,  here  stay  thy  barque,  that  thou  mayest 
listen  to  the  voice  of  us  twain.  For  none  hath  ever  driven 
by  this  way  in  his  black  ship,  till  he  hath  heard  from  our 
^  lips  the  voice  sweet  as  the  honeycomb,  and  hath  had  joy 
thereof  and  gone  on  his  way  the  wiser.  For  lo,  we  know  all 
things,  all  the  travail  that  in  wide  Troy-land  the  Argives  and 
Trojans  bare  by  the  gods'  designs,  yea,  and  we  know  all  that 
shall  hereafter  be  upon  the  fruitful  earth.*' 

*  So  spake  they  uttering  a  sweet  voice,  and  my  heart  was 
fain  to  listen,  and  I  bade  my  company  unbind  me,  nodding 
at  them  with  a  frown,  but  they  bent  to  their  oars  and  rowed 
on.  Then  straight  uprose  Perimedes  and  Eurylochus  and 
bound  me  with  more  cords  and  straitened  me  yet  the  more. 
Now  when  we  had  driven  past  them,  nor  heard  we  any 
longer  the  sound  of  the  Sirens  or  their  song,  forthwith  my 
dear  company  took  away  the  wax  wherewith  I  had  anointed 
their  ears  and  loosed  me  from  my  bonds. 

*  But  so  soon  as  we  left  that  isle,  thereafter  presently  I  saw 
smoke  and  a  great  wave,  and  heard  the  sea  roaring.  Then 
for  very  fear  the  oars  flew  from  their  hands,  and  down  the 
stream  they  all  splashed,  and  the  ship  was  holden  there,  for 
my  company  no  longer  plied  with  their  hands  the  tapering 
oars.  But  I  paced  the  ship  and  cheered  on  my  men,  as  I 
stood  by  each  one  and  spake  smooth  words : 

* "  Friends,  forasmuch  as  in  sorrow  we  are  not  all  un- 
learned, truly  this  is  no  greater  woe  that  is  upon  us*,  than 
when  the  Cyclops  penned  us  by  main  might  in  his  hollow 
cave ;  yet  even  thence  we  made  escape  by  my  manfulness, 
even  by  my  counsel  and  my  wit,  and  some  day  I  think  that 
this  adventure  too  we  shall  remember.  Come  now,  there- 
fore, let  us  all  give  ear  to  do  according  to  my  word.  Do  ye 
smite  the  deep  surf  of  the  sea  with  your  oars,  as  ye  sit  on  the 

*  Reading  Itt^,  not  ?7re<  with  La  Roche, 


ODYSSEY  XII,  215-248.  199 

benches,  if  peradventure  Zeus  may  grant  us  to  escape  from 
and  shun  this  death.  And  as  for  thee,  hehnsman,  thus  I 
charge  thee,  and  ponder  it  in  thine  heart  seeing  that  thou 
wieldest  the  helm  of  the  hollow  ship.  Keep  the  ship  well 
away  from  this  smoke  and  from  the  wave  and  hug  the 
rocks,  lest  the  ship,  ere  thou  art  aware,  start  from  her  course 
to  the  other  side,  and  so  thou  hurl  us  into  ruin." 

*So  I  spake,  and  quickly  they  hearkened  to  my  words. 
But  of  Scylla  I  told  them  nothing  more,  a  bane  none  might 
deal  with,  lest  haply  my  company  should  cease  from  rowing 
for  fear,  and  hide  them  in  the  hold.  In  that  same  hour  I 
suffered  myself  to  forget  the  hard  behest  of  Circe,  in  that  she 
bade  me  in  nowise  be  armed;  but  I  did  on  my  glorious 
harness  and  caught  up  two  long  lances  in  my  hands,  and 
went  on  to  the  decking  of  the  prow,  for  thence  methought 
that  Scylla  of  the  rock  would  first  be  seen,  who  was  to 
bring  woe  on  my  company.  Yet  could  I  not  spy  her  any- 
where, and  my  eyes  waxed  weary  for  gazing  all  about  toward 
the  darkness  of  the  rock. 

'  Next  we  began  to  sail  up  the  narrow  strait  lamenting. 
For  on  the  one  hand  lay  Scylla,  and  on  the  other  mighty 
Charybdis  in  terrible  wise  sucked  down  the  salt  sea  water. 
As  often  as  she  belched  it  forth,  like  a  cauldron  on  a  great 
fire  she  would  seethe  up  through  all  her  troubled  deeps,  and 
overhead  the  spray  fell  on  the  tops  of  either  cliff.  But  oft 
as  she  gulped  down  the  salt  sea  water,  within  she  was  all 
plain  to  see  through  her  troubled  deeps,  and  the  rock  around 
roared  horribly  and  beneath  the  earth  was  manifest  swart 
with  sand,  and  pale  fear  gat  hold  on  my  men.  Toward  her, 
then,  we  looked  fearing  destruction  ;  but  Scylla  meanwhile 
caught  from  out  my  hollow  ship  six  of  my  company,  the 
hardiest  of  their  hands  and  the  chief  in  micrht.  And  looking: 
into  the  swift  ship  to  find  my  men,  even  then  I  marked  their 


200  ODYSSEY  Xlly  249-282. 

feet  and  hands  as  they  were  lifted  on  high,  and  they  cried 
aloud  in  their  agony,  and  called  me  by  my  name  for  that.  last 
time  of  all.  Even  as  when  a  fisher  on  some  headland  lets 
down  with  a  long  rod  his  baits  for  a  snare  to  the  little  fishes 
below,  casting  into  the  deep  the  horn  of  an  ox  of  the  home- 
stead, and  as  he  catches  each  flings  it  writhing  ashore,  so 
writhing  were  they  borne  upward  to  the  cliff.  And  there 
she  devoured  them  shrieking  in  her  gates,  they  stretching 
forth  their  hands  to  me  in  the  dread  death-struggle.  And 
the  most  pitiful  thing  was  this  that  mine  eyes  have  seen  of 
all  my  travail  in  searching  out  the  paths  of  the  sea. 

*  Now  when  we  had  escaped  the  Rocks  and  dread  Chary- 
bdis  and  Scylla,  thereafter  we  soon  came  to  the  fair  island  of 
the  god ;  where  were  the  goodly  kine,  broad  of  brow,  and  the 
many  brave  flocks  of  Helios  Hyperion.  Then  while  as  yet 
I  was  in  my  black  ship  upon  the  deep,  I  heard  the  lowing  of 
the  cattle  being  stalled  and  the  bleating  of  the  sheep,  and  on 
my  mind  there  fell  the  saying  of  the  blind  seer,  Theban 
Teiresias,  and  of  Circe  of  Aia,  who  charged  me  very  straitly 
to  shun  the  isle  of  Helios,  the  gladdener  of  the  world.  Then 
I  spake  out  among  my  company  in  sorrow  of  heart : 

* "  Hear  my  words,  my  men,  albeit  in  evil  plight,  that  I  may 
declare  unto  you  the  oracles  of  Teiresias  and  of  Circe  of  Aia, 
who  very  straitly  charged  me  to  shun  the  isle  of  Helios,  the 
gladdener  of  the  world.  For  there  she  said  the  most  dreadful 
mischief  would  befal  us.  Nay,  drive  ye  then  the  black  ship 
beyond  and  past  that  isle." 

*  So  spake  I,  and  their  heart  was  broken  within  them. 
And  Eurylochus  straightway  answered  me  sadly,  saying : 

' "  Hardy  art  thou,  Odysseus,  of  might  beyond  measure, 
and  thy  limbs  are  never  weary  ;  verily  thou  art  fashioned  all 
of  iron,  that  suff'erest  not  thy  fellows,  foredone  with  toil  and 
drowsiness,  to  set  foot  on  shore,  where  we  might  presently 


ODYSSEY  XII,  283-313.  201 

prepare  us  a  good  supper  in  this  sea-girt  island.  But  even 
as  we  are  thou  biddest  us  fare  bHndly  through  the  sudden 
night,  and  from  the  isle  go  wandering  on  the  misty  deep. 
And  strong  winds,  the  bane  of  ships,  are  born  of  the  night. 
How  could  a  man  escape  from  utter  doom,  if  there  chanced 
to  come  a  sudden  blast  of  the  South  Wind,  or  of  the 
boisterous  West,  which  mainly  wreck  ships,  beyond  the  will 
of  the  gods,  the  lords  of  all  ?  Howbeit  for  this  present  let 
us  yield  to  the  black  night,  and  we  will  make  ready  our 
supper  abiding  by  the  swift  ship,  and  in  the  morning  we  will 
climb  on  board,  and  put  out  into  the  broad  deep." 

*  So  spake  Eurylochus,  and  the  rest  of  my  company  con- 
sented thereto.  Then  at  the  last  I  knew  that  some  god  was 
indeed  imagining  evil,  and  I  uttered  my  voice  and  spake 
unto  him  winged  words : 

*  "  Eurylochus,  verily  ye  put  force  upon  me,  being  but  one 
among  you  all.  But  come,  swear  me  now  a  mighty  oath, 
one  and  all,  to  the  intent  that  if  we  light  on  a  herd  of  kine 
or  a  great  flock  of  sheep,  none  in  the  evil  folly  of  his  heart 
may  slay  any  sheep  or  ox;  but  in  quiet  eat  ye  the  meat 
which  the  deathless  Circe  gave." 

'  So  I  spake,  and  straightway  they  swore  to  refrain  as  I 
commanded  them.  Now  after  they  had  sworn  and  done  that 
oath,  we  stayed  our  well-builded  ship  in  the  hollow  harbour 
near  to  a  well  of  sweet  water,  and  my  company  went  forth 
from  out  the  ship  and  deftly  got  ready  supper.  But  when 
they  had  put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and  drink,  there- 
after they  fell  a  weeping  as  they  thought  upon  their  dear 
companions  whom  Scylla  had  snatched  from  out  the  hollow 
ship  and  so  devoured.  And  deep  sleep  came  upon  them 
amid  their  weeping.  And  when  it  was  the  third  watch  of  the 
night,  and  the  stars  had  crossed  the  zenith,  Zeus  the  cloud- 
gatherer  roused  against  them  an  angry  wind  with  wondrous 


20a  ODYSSEY  XII,  3i4-34«. 

tempest,  and  shrouded  in  clouds  land  and  sea  alike,  and  from 
heaven  sped  down  the  night.  Now  when  early  Dawn  shone 
forth,  the  rosy-fingered,  we  beached  the  ship,  and  dragged 
it  up  within  a  hollow  cave,  where  were  the  fair  dancing 
grounds  of  the  nymphs  and  the  places  of  their  session. 
Thereupon  I  ordered  a  gathering  of  my  men  and  spake  in 
their  midst,  saying : 

* "  Friends,  forasmuch  as  there  is  yet  meat  and  drink  in 
the  swift  ship,  let  us  keep  our  hands  off  those  kine,  lest  some 
evil  thing  befall  us.  For  these  are  the  kine  and  the  brave 
flocks  of  a  dread  god,  even  of  Hehos,  who  overseeth  all 
and  overheareth  all  things." 

*So  I  spake,  and  their  lordly  spirit  hearkened  thereto. 
Then  for  a  whole  month  the  South  Wind  blew  without  ceas- 
ing, and  no  other  wind  arose,  save  only  the  East  and  the 
South. 

*  Now  so  long  as  my  company  still  had  corn  and  red  wine, 
they  refrained  them  from  the  kine,  for  they  were  fain  of  life. 
But  when  the  corn  was  now  all  spent  from  out  the  ship, 
and  they  went  wandering  with  barbed  hooks  in  quest  of 
game,  as  needs  they  must,  fishes  and  fowls,  whatsoever 
might  come  to  their  hand,  for  hunger  gnawed  at  their  belly, 
then  at  last  I  departed  up  the  isle,  that  I  might  pray  to  the 
gods,  if  perchance  some  one  of  them  might  show  me  a  way 
of  returning.  And  now  when  I  had  avoided  my  company  on 
my  way  through  the  island,  I  laved  my  hands  where  was  a 
shelter  from  the  wind,  and  prayed  to  all  the  gods  that  hold 
Olympus.  But  they  shed  sweet  sleep  upon  my  eyelids. 
And  Eurylochus  the  while  set  forth  an  evil  counsel  to  my 
company : 

* "  Hear  my  words,  my  friends,  though  ye  be  in  evil  case. 
Truly  every  shape  of  death  is  hateful  to  wretched  mortals, 
but  to  die  of  hunger  and  so  meet  doom  is  most  pitiful  of 


ODYSSEY  XII,  ^AZ-^n* 203 

all.  Nay  come,  we  will  drive  off  the  best  of  the  kine  of 
Helios  and  will  do  sacrifice  to  the  deathless  gods  who  keep 
wide  heaven.  And  if  we  may  yet  reach  Ithaca,  our  own 
country,  forthwith  will  we  rear  a  rich  shrine  to  Helios  Hype- 
rion, and  therein  would  we  set  many  a  choice  offering.  But 
if  he  be  somewhat  wroth  for  his  cattle  with  straight  horns, 
and  is  fain  to  wreck  our  ship,  and  the  other  gods  follow 
his  desire,  rather  with  one  gulp  at  the  wave  would  I  cast  my 
life  away,  than  be  slowly  straitened  to  death  in  a  desert  isle." 

*  So  spake  Eurylochus,  and  the  rest  of  the  company  con- 
sented thereto.  Forthwith  they  drave  off  the  best  of  the  kine 
of  Helios  that  were  nigh  at  hand,  for  the  fair  kine  of  sham- 
bling gait  and  broad  of  brow  were  feeding  no  great  way 
from  the  dark-prowed  ship.  Then  they  stood  around  the 
cattle  and  prayed  to  the  gods,  plucking  the  fresh  leaves 
from  an  oak  of  lofty  boughs,  for  they  had  no  white  barley 
on  board  the  decked  ship.  Now  after  they  had  prayed  and 
cut  the  throats  of  the  kine  and  flayed  them,  they  cut  out 
slices  of  the  thighs  and  wrapped  them  in  the  fat,  making 
a  double  fold,  and  thereon  they  laid  raw  flesh.  Yet  had  they 
no  pure  wine  to  pour  over  the  flaming  sacrifices,  but  they 
made  libation  with  water  and  roasted  the  entrails  over  the 
fire.  Now  after  the  thighs  were  quite  consumed  and  they 
had  tasted  the  inner  parts,  they  cut  the  rest  up  small  and 
spitted  it  on  spits.  In  the  same  hour  deep  sleep  sped  from 
my  eyelids  and  I  sallied  forth  to  the  swift  ship  and  the  sea- 
banks.  But  on  my  way  as  I  drew  near  to  the  curved  ship, 
the  sweet  savour  of  the  fat  came  all  about  me ;  and  I  groaned 
and  spake  out  before  the  deathless  gods : 

* "  Father  Zeus,  and  all  ye  other  blessed  gods  that  live  for 
ever,  verily  to  my  undoing  ye  have  lulled  me  with  a  ruthless 
sleep,  and  my  company  abiding  behind  have  imagined  a 
monstrous  deed," 


204  ODYSSEY  XII,  374-405. 

*  Then  swiftly  to  Helios  Hyperion  came  Lampetie  of  the 
long  robes,  with  the  tidings  that  we  had  slain  his  kine.  .And 
straight  he  spake  with  angry  heart  amid  the  Immortals : 

* "  Father  Zeus,  and  all  ye  other  blessed  gods  that  live  for 
ever,  take  vengeance  I  pray  you  on  the  company  of  Odysseus, 
son  of  Laertes,  that  have  insolently  slain  my  cattle,  wherein  I 
was  wont  to  be  glad  as  I  went  toward  the  starry  heaven,  and 
when  I  again  turned  earthward  from  the  firmament.  And  if 
they  pay  me  not  full  atonement  for  the  cattle,  I  will  go  down 
to  Hades  and  shine  among  the  dead." 

*  And  Zeus  the  cloud-gatherer  answered  him,  saying : 
"  Helios,  do  thou,  I  say,  shine  on  amidst  the  deathless  gods, 
and  amid  mortal  men  upon  the  earth,  the  grain-giver. 
But  as  for  me,  I  will  soon  smite  their  swift  ship  with  my 
white  bolt,  and  cleave  it  in  pieces  in  the  midst  of  the  wine- 
dark  deep." 

*  This  I  heard  from  Calypso  of  the  fair  hair;  and  she  said 
that  she  herself  had  heard  it  from  Hermes  the  Messenger. 

'  But  when  I  had  come  down  to  the  ship  and  to  the  sea, 
I  went  up  to  my  companions  and  rebuked  them  one  by  one ; 
but  we  could  find  no  remedy,  the  cattle  were  dead  and 
gone.  And  soon  thereafter  the  gods  showed  forth  signs 
and  wonders  to  my  company.  The  skins  were  creeping, 
and  the  flesh  bellowing  upon  the  spits,  both  the  roast  and 
raw,  and  there  was  a  sound  as  the  voice  of  kine. 

'  Then  for  six  days  my  dear  company  feasted  on  the  best 
of  the  kine  of  Helios  which  they  had  driven  off.  But  when 
Zeus,  son  of  Cronos,  had  added  the  seventh  day  thereto, 
thereafter  the  wind  ceased  to  blow  with  a  rushing  storm,  and 
at  once  we  climbed  the  ship  and  launched  into  the  broad 
deep,  when  we  had  set  up  the  mast  and  hoisted  the  white  sails. 

'But  now  when  we  left  that  isle  nor  any  other  land 
appeared,  but   sky   and  sea  only,  even  then   the   son   of 


ODYSSEY  XII,  405-438.  20,5 

Cronos  stayed  a  dark  cloud  above  the  hollow  ship,  and  be- 
neath it  the  deep  darkened.  And  the  ship  ran  on  her  way 
for  no  long  while,  for  of  a  sudden  came  the  shrilling  West, 
with  the  rushing  of  a  great  tempest,  and  the  blast  of  wind 
snapped  the  two  forestays  of  the  mast,  and  the  mast  fell 
backward  and  all  the  gear  dropped  into  the  bilge.  And  be- 
hold, on  the  hind  part  of  the  ship  the  mast  struck  the  head  of 
the  pilot  and  brake  all  the  bones  of  his  skull  together,  and 
like  a  diver  he  dropt  down  from  the  deck,  and  his  brave 
spirit  left  his  bones.  In  that  same  hour  Zeus  thundered 
and  cast  his  bolt  upon  the  ship,  and  she  reeled  all  over  being 
stricken  by  the  bolt  of  Zeus,  and  was  filled  with  sulphur,  and 
lo,  my  company  fell  from  out  the  vessel.  Like  sea-gulls  they 
were  borne  round  the  black  ship  upon  the  billows,  and  the 
god  reft  them  of  returning. 

*  But  I  kept  pacing  through  my  ship,  till  the  surge  loos- 
ened the  sides  from  the  keel,  and  the  wave  swept  her  along 
stript  of  her  tackling,  and  brake  her  mast  clean  off  at  the 
keel.  Now  the  backstay  fashioned  of  an  oxhide  had  been 
flung  thereon  ;  therewith  I  lashed  together  both  keel  and 
mast,  and  sitting  thereon  I  was  borne  by  the  ruinous  winds. 

*  Then  verily  the  West  Wind  ceased  to  blow  with  a  rushing 
Storm,  and  swiftly  withal  the  South  Wind  came,  bringing 
sorrow  to  my  soul,  that  so  I  might  again  measure  back  that 
space  of  sea,  the  way  to  deadly  Charybdis.  All  the  night 
was  I  borne,  but  with  the  rising  of  the  sun  I  came  to  the 
reck  of  Scylla,  and  to  dread  Charybdis.  Now  she  had 
sucked  down  her  salt  sea  water,  when  I  was  swung  up  on 
high  to  the  tall  fig-tree  whereto  I  clung  like  a  bat,  and  could 
find  no  sure  rest  for  my  feet  nor  place  to  stand,  for  the 
roots  spread  far  below  and  the  branches  hung  aloft  out  of 
reach,  long  and  large,  and  overshadowed  Charybdis.  Stead- 
fast I  clung  till  she  should  vomit  forth  mast  and  keel  again; 


2o6  ODYSSEY  XII,  438-453. 

and  late  they  came  to  my  desire.  At  the  hour  when  a 
man  rises  up  from  the  assembly  and  goes  to  supper,  one 
who  judges  the  many  quarrels  of  the  young  men  that  seek  to 
him  for  law,  at  that  same  hour  those  timbers  came  forth  to 
view  from  out  Charybdis.  And  I  let  myself  drop  down  hands 
and  feet,  and  plunged  heavily  in  the  midst  of  the  waters 
beyond  the  long  timbers,  and  sitting  on  these  I  rowed  hard 
with  my  hands.  But  the  father  of  gods  and  of  men  suffered 
me  no  more  to  behold  Scylla,  else  I  should  never  have 
escaped  from  utter  doom. 

*  Thence  for  nine  days  was  I  borne,  and  on  the  tenth 
night  the  gods  brought  me  nigh  to  the  isle  of  Ogygia,  where 
dwells  Calypso  of  the  braided  tresses,  an  aw'ful  goddess  of 
mortal  speech,  who  took  me  in  and  entreated  me  kindly. 
But  why  rehearse  all  this  tale  ?  For  even  yesterday  I  told  it 
to  thee  and  to  thy  noble  wife  in  thy  house;  and  it  liketh 
me  not  twice  to  tell  a  plain-told  tale.* 


BOOK  XIII. 

Odyssetis,  sleeping,  is  set  ashore  at  Ithaca  by  the  Phaeacians,  and  waking 
knows  it  not.  Pallas,  in  the  form  of  a  shepherd,  helps  to  hide  his  treasure. 
The  ship  that  conveyed  him  is  turned  into  a  rock,  and  Odysseus  by  Pallas 
is  instructed  what  to  do,  and  transformed  into  an  old  beggarman. 

So  spake  be,  and  dead  silence  fell  on  all,  and  they  were 
spell-bound  throughout  the  shadowy  halls.  Thereupon 
Alcinous  answered  him,  and  spake,  saying: 

*  Odysseus,  now  that  thou  hast  come  to  my  high  house 
with  floor  of  bronze,  never,  methinks,  shalt  thou  be  driven 
from  thy  way  ere  thou  returnest,  though  thou  hast  been  sore 
afBicted.  And  for  each  man  among  you,  that  in  these  halls  of 
mine  drink  evermore  the  dark  wine  of  the  elders,  and  hearken 
to  the  minstrel,  this  is  my  word  and  command.  Garments 
for  the  stranger  are  already  laid  up  in  a  polished  coffer, 
with  gold  curiously  wrought,  and  all  other  such  gifts  as  the 
counsellors  of  the  Phaeacians  bare  hither.  Come  now,  let  us 
each  of  us  give  him  a  great  tripod  and  a  cauldron,  and  we 
in  turn  will  gather  goods  among  the  people  and  get  us 
recompense;  for  it  were  hard  that  one  man  should  give 
without  return.* 

So  spake  Alcinous,  and  the  saying  pleased  them  well.  Then 
they  went  each  one  to  his  house  to  lay  him  down  to  rest ; 
but  so  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
they  hasted  to  the  ship  and  bare  the  bronze,  the  joy  of  men. 
And  the  mighty  king  Alcinous  himself  went  about  the  ship 


208  ODYSSEY  XIII,  21-51. 

and  diligently  bestowed  the  gifts  beneath  the  benches,  that 
they  might  not  hinder  any  of  the  crew  in  their  rowing,  when 
they  laboured  at  their  oars.  Then  they  betook  them  to  the 
house  of  Alcinous  and  fell  to  feasting.  And  the  mighty  king 
Alcinous  sacrificed  before  them  an  ox  to  Zeus,  the  son  of 
Cronos,  that  dwells  in  the  dark  clouds,  who  is  lord  of  all. 
And  when  they  had  burnt  the  pieces  of  the  thighs,  they 
shared  the  glorious  feast  and  made  merry,  and  among  them 
harped  the  divine  minstrel  Demodocus,  whom  the  people 
honoured.  But  Odysseus  would  ever  turn  his  head  toward 
the  splendour  of  the  sun,  being  fain  to  hasten  his  setting : 
for  verily  he  was  most  eager  to  return.  And  as  when  a  man 
longs  for  his  supper,  for  whom  all  day  long  two  dark  oxen 
drag  through  the  fallow  field  the  jointed  plough,  yea  and 
welcome  to  such  an  one  the  sunlight  sinketh,  that  so  he  may 
get  him  to  supper,  for  his  knees  wax  faint  by  the  way, 
even  so  welcome  was  the  sinking  of  the  sunlight  to  Odys- 
seus. Then  straight  he  spake  among  the  Phaeacians,  masters 
of  the  oar,  and  to  Alcinous  in  chief  he  made  known  his 
word,  saying: 

*  My  lord  Alcinous,  most  notable  of  all  the  people,  pour 
ye  the  drink  offering,  and  send  me  safe  upon  my  way,  and 
as  for  you,  fare  ye  well.  For  now  have  I  all  that  my  heart 
desired,  an  escort  and  loving  gifts.  May  the  gods  of  heaven 
give  me  good  fortune  with  them,  and  may  I  find  my  noble 
wife  in  my  home  with  my  friends  unharmed,  while  ye,  for 
your  part,  abide  here  and  make  glad  your  gentle  wives  and 
children ;  and  may  the  gods  vouchsafe  all  manner  of  good, 
and  may  no  evil  come  nigh  the  people  1 ' 

So  spake  he,  and  they  all  consented  thereto  and  bade 
send  the  stranger  on  his  way,  in  that  he  had  spoken  aright. 
Then  the  mighty  king  Alcinous  spake  to  the  henchman : 
'  Pontonous,  mix  the  bowl  and  serve  out  the  wine  to  all  in 


ODYSSEY  XIII,  51-85.  209 

the  hall,  that  we  may  pray  to  Father  Zeus,  and  send  the 
stranger  on  his  way  to  his  own  country/ 

So  spake  he,  and  Pontonous  mixed  the  honey-hearted 
wine,  and  served  it  to  all  in  turn.  And  they  poured  forth 
before  the  blessed  gods  that  keep  wide  heaven^  even  there 
as  they  sat.  Then  goodly  Odysseus  uprose,  and  placed  in 
Arete's  hand  the  double  cup,  and  uttering  his  voice  spake 
to  her  winged  words : 

*  Fare  thee  well,  O  queen,  all  the  days  of  thy  life,  till 
old  age  come  and  death,  that  visit  all  mankind.  But  I  go 
homeward,  and  do  thou  in  this  thy  house  rejoice  in  thy 
children  and  thy  people  and  Alcinous  the  king.' 

Therewith  goodly  Odysseus  stept  over  the  threshold.  And 
with  him  the  mighty  Alcinous  sent  forth  a  henchman  to 
guide  him  to  the  swift  ship  and  the  sea-banks.  And  Arete 
sent  in  his  train  certain  maidens  of  her  household,  one  bear- 
ing a  fresh  robe  and  a  doublet,  and  another  she  joined  to 
them  to  carry  the  strong  coffer,  and  yet  another  bare  bread 
and  red  wine.  Now  when  they  had  come  down  to  the  ship 
and  to  the  sea,  straightway  the  good  men  of  the  escort  took 
these  things  and  laid  them  by  in  the  hollow  ship,  even  all 
the  meat  and  drink.  Then  they  strewed  for  Odysseus  a  rug 
and  a  sheet  of  linen,  on  the  decks  of  the  hollow  ship  in  the 
hinder  part  thereof,  that  he  might  sleep  sound.  Then  he  too 
climbed  aboard  and  laid  him  down  in  silence,  while  they  sat 
upon  the  benches,  every  man  in  order,  and  unbound  the 
hawser  from  the  pierced  stone.  So  soon  as  they  leant  back- 
wards and  tossed  the  sea  water  with  the  oar  blade,  a  deep 
sleep  fell  upon  his  eyelids,  a  sound  sleep,  very  sweet,  and 
next  akin  to  death.  And  even  as  on  a  plain  a  yoke  of  four 
stajlions  comes  springing  all  together  beneath  the  lash,  leap- 
ing high  and  speedily  accomplishing  the  way,  so  leaped  the 
stern  of  that  ship,  and  the  dark  wave  of  th(}  sounding  sea 

p 


aiO  ODYSSEY  XIII,  85-118. 

rushed  mightily  in  the  wake,  and  she  ran  ever  surely  on 
her  way,  nor  could  a  circling  hawk  keep  pace  with  her,  of 
winged  things  the  swiftest.  Even  thus  she  lightly  sped  and 
cleft  the  waves  of  the  sea,  bearing  a  man  whose  counsel 
was  as  the  counsel  of  the  gods,  one  that  erewhile  had  suf- 
fered much  sorrow  of  heart,  in  passing  through  the  wars  of 
men,  and  the  grievous  waves;  but  for  that  time  he  slept 
in  peace,  forgetful  of  all  that  he  had  suffered. 

So  when  the  star  came  up,  that  is  brightest  of  all,  and 
goes  ever  heralding  the  light  of  early  Dawn,  even  then  did 
the  sea-faring  ship  draw  nigh  the  island.  There  is  in  the 
land  of  Ithaca  a  certain  haven  of  Phorcys,  the  ancient  one 
of  the  sea,  and  thereby  are  two  headlands  of  sheer  cliff, 
which  slope  to  the  sea  on  the  haven's  side  and  break  the 
mighty  wave  that  ill  winds  roll  without,  but  within,  the 
decked  ships  ride  unmoored  when  once  they  have  attained 
to  that  landing  place.  Now  at  the  harbour's  head  is  a 
long-leaved  olive  tree,  and  hard  by  is  a  pleasant  cave  and 
shadowy,  sacred  to  the  nymphs,  that  are  called  the  Naiads. 
And  therein  are  mixing  bowls  and  jars  of  stone,  and  there 
moreover  do  bees  hive.  And  there  are  great  looms  of  stone, 
whereon  the  nymphs  weave  raiment  of  purple  stain,  a 
marvel  to  behold,  and  therein  are  waters  welling  evermore. 
Two  gates  there  are  to  the  cave,  the  one  set  toward  the 
North  Wind  whereby  men  may  go  down,  but  the  portals 
toward  the  South  pertain  rather  to  the  gods,  whereby  men 
may  not  enter:   it  is  the  way  of  the  immortals. 

Thither  they,  as  having  knowledge  of  that  place,  let  drive 
their  ship;  and  now  the  vessel  in  full  course  ran  ashore, 
half  her  keel's  length  high ;  so  well  was  she  sped  by  the 
hands  of  the  oarsmen.  Then  they  alighted  from  the  benched 
ship  upon  the  land,  and  first  they  lifted  Odysseus  from  out 
the  hollow  ship,  all  as  he  was  in  the  sheet  of  linen  and  the 


OD  YSSE  Y  XIII,   1 1 8-147.  21 T 

bright  rug,  and  laid  him  yet  heavy  with  slumber  on  the  sand. 
And  ^Jiey  took  forth  the  goods  which  the  lordly  Phaeacians 
had  given  him  on  his  homeward  way  by  grace  of  the  great- 
hearted Athene.  These  they  set  in  a  heap  by  the  trunk  of 
the  olive  tree,  a  little  aside  from  the  road,  lest  some  way- 
faring man,  before  Odysseus  awakened,  should  come  and 
spoil  them.  Then  themselves  departed  homeward  again. 
But  the  shaker  of  the  earth  forgat  not  the  threats,  wherewith 
at  the  first  he  had  threatened  godlike  Odysseus,  and  he 
inquired  into  the  counsel  of  Zeus,  saying; 

*  Father  Zeus,  I  for  one  shall  no  longer  be  of  worship 
among  the  deathless  gods,  when  mortal  men  hold  me  in  no 
regard,  even  Phaeacians,  who  moreover  are  of  mine  own 
lineage.  Lo,  now  I  said  that  after  much  affliction  Odysseus 
should  come  home,  for  I  had  no  mind  to  rob  him  utterly 
of  his  return,  when  once  thou  hadst  promised  it  and  given 
assent;  but  behold,  in  his  sleep  they  have  borne  him  in 
a  swift  ship  over  the  sea,  and  set  him  down  in  Ithaca, 
and  given  him  gifts  out  of  measure,  bronze  and  gold  in 
plenty  and  woven  raiment,  much  store,  such  as  never  would 
Odysseus  have  won  for  himself  out  of  Troy;  yea,  though 
he  had  returned  unhurt  with  the  share  of  the  spoil  that  fell 
to  him.' 

And  Zeus,  the  cloud  gatherer,  answered  him  saying :  *  Lo 
now,  shaker  of  the  earth,  of  widest  power,  what  a  word  hast 
thou  spoken  !  The  gods  nowise  dishonour  thee ;  hard  would 
it  be  to  bring  into  dishonour  our  eldest  and  our  best.  But  if 
any  man,  giving  place  to  his  own  hardihood  and  strength, 
holds  thee  not  in  worship,  thou  hast  always  thy  revenge  for 
the  same,  even  in  the  time  to  come,  Do  thou  as  thou  wilt, 
and  as  seems  thee  good.' 

Then  Poseidon,  shaker  of  the  earth,  answered  him: 
*  Lightly  would  I  have  done  as  thou  sayest,  O  god  of  the 

p  2 


-^-KT' 


ai2  ODvssEV  XIII,  147-175. 

dark  clouds;  but  always  do  I  hold  in  awe  and  avoid  thy 
wrath.  Howbeit,  now  I  fain  would  smite  a  fair  ship  of  the 
Phaeacians,  as  she  comes  home  from  a  convoy  on  the  misty 
deep,  that  thereby  they  may  learn  to  hold  their  hands,  and 
cease  from  giving  escort  to  men ;  and  I  would  overshadow 
their  city  with  a  great  mountain/ 

And  Zeus  the  gatherer  of  the  clouds,  answered  him,  say- 
ing :  *  Friend,  learn  now  what  seems  best  in  my  sight.  At 
an  hour  when  the  folk  are  all  looking  forth  from  the  city  at 
the  ship  upon  her  way,  smite  her  into  a  stone  hard  by  the 
land ;  a  stone  in  the  likeness  of  a  swift  ship,  that  all  mankind 
may  marvel,  and  do  thou  overshadow  their  city  with  a  great 
mountain.' 

Now  when  Poseidon,  shaker  of  the  earth,  heard  this  saying, 
he  went  on  his  way  to  Scheria,  where  the  Phaeacians  dwell 
There  he  abode  awhile;  and  lo,  she  drew  near,  the  sea- 
faring ship,  lightly  sped  upon  her  way.  Then  nigh  her 
came  the  shaker  of  the  earth,  and  he  smote  her  into  a 
stone,  and  rooted  her  far  below  with  the  down-stroke  of  his 
hand  ;  and  he  departed  thence  again. 

Then  one  to  the  other  they  spake  winged  words,  the 
Phaeacians  of  the  long  oars,  mariners  renowned.  And  thus 
would  they  speak,  looking  each  man  to  his  neighbour : 

'Ah  me !  who  is  this  that  hath  bound  our  swift  ship  on  the 
deep  as  she  drave  homewards?  Even  now  she  stood  all 
plain  to  view.' 

Even  so  they  would  speak ;  but  they  knew  not  how  these 
things  were  ordained.  And  Alcinous  made  harangue  and 
spake  among  them  : 

'  Lo  now,  in  very  truth  the  ancient  oracles  of  my  father 
have  come  home  to  me.  He  was  wont  to  say  that  Poseidon 
was  jealous  of  us,  for  that  we  give  safe  escort  to  all  men. 
He  said  that  the  day  would   come  when   the  god  would 


ODYSSEY  XIII,  175-205.  213 

smite  a  fair  ship  of  the  Phaeacians,  as  she  came  home 
from  a  convoy  on  the  misty  deep,  and  overshadow  our 
city  with  a  great  mountain.  Thus  that  ancient  one  would 
speak;  and  lo,  all  these  things  now  have  an  end.  But 
come,  let  us  all  give  ear  and  do  according  to  my  word. 
Cease  ye  from  the  convoy  of  mortals,  whensoever  any  shall 
come  unto  our  town,  and  let  us  sacrifice  to  Poseidon  twelve 
choice  bulls,  if  perchance  he  may  take  pity,  neither  over- 
shadow our  city  with  a  great  mountain.' 

So  spake  he,  and  they  were  dismayed  and  got  ready  the 
bulls.  Thus  were  they  praying  to  the  lord  Poseidon,  the 
princes  and  counsellors  of  the  land  of  the  Phaeacians,  as 
they  stood  about  the  altar. 

Even  then  the  goodly  Odysseus  awoke  where  he  slept  on 
his  native  land ;  nor  knew  he  the  same  again,  having  now 
been  long  afar,  for  around  him  the  goddess  had  shed  a  mist, 
even  Pallas  Athene,  daughter  of  Zeus,  to  the  end  that  she 
might  make  him  undiscovered  for  that  he  was,  and  might 
expound  to  him  all  things,  that  so  his  wife  should  not  know 
him  neither  his  townsmen  and  kinsfolk,  ere  the  wooers  had 
paid  for  all  their  transgressions.  Wherefore  each  thing 
showed  strange  to  the  lord  of  the  land,  the  long  paths  and 
the  sheltering  havens  and  the  steep  rocks  and  the  trees  in 
their  bloom.  So  he  started  up,  and  stood  and  looked  upon 
his  native  land,  and  then  he  made  moan  withal,-  and  smote 
on  both  his  thighs  with  the  down-stroke  of  his  hands,  and 
making  lament,  he  spake,  saying: 

*  Oh,  woe  is  me,  unto  what  mortals*  land  am  I  now  come? 
Say,  are  they  froward,  and  wild,  and  unjust,  or  hospitable  and 
of  a  god-fearing  mind?  Whither  shall  I  bear  all  this  wealth? 
Yea  where  shall  I  myself  go  wandering  ?  Oh !  that  it  had 
abided  with  the  Phaeacians  whei^  it  was,  and  that  I  had 
gone  to   some   other   of  the   mighty  princes,   who  would 


2T4  ODYSSEY  XIII,  206-335. 

have  entreated  me  kindly  and  sent  me  on  my  way.  But 
now  I  know  not  where  to  bestow  my  treasure,  and  yet  I  .will 
not  leave  it  here  behind,  lest  haply  other  men  make  spoil  of 
it.  Lo  now,  they  were  not  wholly  wise  or  just,  the  princes 
and  counsellors  of  the  Phaeacians,  who  carried  me  to  a 
strange  land.  Verily  they  promised  to  bring  me  to  clear- 
seen  Ithaca,  but  they  performed  it  not.  May  Zeus  requite 
them,  the  god  of  suppliants,  se^ng  that  he  watches  over 
all  men  and  punishes  the  transgressor!  But  come,  I  will 
reckon  up  these  goods  and  look  to  them,  lest  the  men  be 
gone,  and  have  taken  back  of  their  gifts  upon  their  hollow 
ship.' 

Therewith  he  set  to  number  the  fair  tripods  and  the 
cauldrons  and  the  gold  and  the  goodly  woven  raiment; 
and  of  all  these  he  lacked  not  aught,  but  he  bewailed  him 
for  his  own  country,  as  he  walked  downcast  by  the  shore  of 
the  sounding  sea,  and  made  sore  lament.  Then  Athene 
came  nigh  him  in  the  guise  of  a  young  man,  the  herds- 
man of  a  flock,  a  young  man  most  delicate,  such  as  are 
the  sons  of  kings.  And  she  had  a  well-wrought  mantle 
that  fell  in  two  folds  about  her  shoulders,  and  beneath  her 
smooth  feet  she  had  sandals  bound,  and  a  javelin  in  her 
hands.  And  Odysseus  rejoiced  as  he  saw  her,  and  came 
over  against  her,  and  uttering  his  voice  spake  to  her  winged 
words : 

*  Friend,  since  thou  art  the  first  that  I  have  chanced  on  in 
this  land,  hail  to  thee,  and  with  no  ill-will  mayest  thou  meet 
me !  Nay,  save  this  my  substance  and  save  me  too,  for  to 
thee  as  to  a  god  I  make  prayer,  and  to  thy  dear  knees  have 
I  come.  And  herein  tell  me  true,  that  I  may  surely  know. 
What  land,  what  people  is  this  ?  what  men  dwell  therein  ? 
Is  it,  perchance,  some  clear  seen  isle,  or  a  shore  of  the  rich 
mainland  that  lies  and  leans  upon  the  deep?* 


OD  YSSE  Y  XIII,  2,^6^268.  2 1 5 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  spake  to  him  again : 
*Thou  art  witless,  stranger,  or  thou  art  come  from  afar,  if 
indeed  thou  askest  of  this  land ;  nay,  it  is  not  so  very  name- 
less but  that  many  men  know  it,  both  all  those  who  dwell 
toward  the  dawning  and  the  sun,  and  they  that  abide  over 
against  the  light  toward  the  shadowy  west.  Verily  it  is 
rough  and  not  fit  for  the  driving  of  horses,  yet  is  it  not  a 
very  sorry  isle,  though  narrow  withal.  For  herein  is  corn 
past  telling,  and  herein  too  wine  is  found,  and  the  rain  is 
on  it  evermore,  and  the  fresh  dew.  And  it  is  good  for 
feeding  goats  and  feeding  kine;  all  manner  of  wood  is 
here,  and  watering-places  unfailing  are  herein.  Wherefore, 
stranger,  the  name  of  Ithaca  hath  reached  even  unto  Troy- 
land,  which  men  say  is  far  from  this  Achaean  shore.' 

So  spake  she,  and  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  was  glad, 
and  had  joy  in  his  own  country,  according  to  the  word  of 
Pallas  Athene,  daughter  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis.  And  he 
uttered  his  voice  and  spake  unto  her  winged  words ;  yet  he 
did  not  speak  the  truth,  but  wrested  the  word  into  guile,  for 
he  had  a  gainful  and  a  nimble  wit  within  his  breast : 

*  Of  Ithaca  have  I  heard  tell,  even  in  broad  Crete,  far  over 
the  seas ;  and  now  have  I  come  hither  myself  with  these  my 
goods.  And  I  left  as  much  again  to  my  children,  when  I 
turned  outlaw  for  the  slaying  of  the  dear  son  of  Idomeneus, 
Orsilochus,  swift  of  foot,  who  in  wide  Crete  was  the  swiftest 
of  all  men  that  live  by  bread.  Now  he  would  have  despoiled 
me  of  all  that  booty  of  Troy,  for  the  which  I  had  endured 
pain  of  heart,  in  passing  through  the  wars  of  men,  and  the 
grievous  waves  of  the  sea,  for  this  cause  that  I  would  not  do 
a  favour  to  his  father,  and  make  me  his  squire  in  the  land  of 
the  Trojans,  but  commanded  other  fellowship  of  mine  own. 
So  I  smote  him  with  a  bronze-shod  spear  as  he  came  home 
from  the  field,  lying  in  ambush  for  him  by  the  wayside,  with 


2i6  ODYSSEY  X/II,  268^299. 

one  of  my  companions.  And  dark  midnight  held  the 
heavens,  and  no  man  marked  us,  but  privily  I  took  his 
life  away.  Now  after  I  had  slain  him  with  the  sharp  spear, 
straightway  I  went  to  a  ship  and  besought  the  lordly 
Phoenicians,  and  gave  them  spoil  to  their  hearts'  desire. 
I  charged  them  to  take  me  on  board,  and  land  me  at  Pylos 
or  at  goodly  Elis  where  the  Epeans  bear  rule.  Howbeit 
of  a  truth,  the  might  of  the  wind  drave  them  out  of  their 
course,  sore  against  their  will,  nor  did  they  wilfully  play  me 
false.  Thence  we  were  driven  wandering,  and  came  hither 
by  night.  And  with  much  ado  we  rowed  onward  into  har- 
bour, nor  took  we  any  thought  of  supper,  though  we  stood 
sore  in  need  thereof,  but  even  as  we  were  we  stept  ashore 
and  all  lay  down.  Then  over  me  there  came  sweet 
slumber  in  my  weariness,  but  they  took  forth  my  goods  from 
the  hollow  ship,  and  set  them  by  me  where  I  myself  lay 
upon  the  sands.  Then  they  went  on  board,  and  departed 
for  the  fair-lying  land  of  Sidon;  while  as  for  me  I  was  left 
stricken  at  heart.* 

So  spake  he  and  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  smiled, 
and  caressed  him  with  her  hand ;  and  straightway  she 
changed  to  the  semblance  of  a  woman,  fair  and  tall,  and 
skilled  in  splendid  handiwork.  And  uttering  her  voice  she 
spake  unto  him  winged  words  : 

*  Crafty  must  he  be,  and  knavish,  who  would  outdo  thee 
in  all  manner  of  guile,  even  if  it  were  a  god  encountered 
thee.  Hardy  man,  subtle  of  wit,  of  guile  insatiate,  so  thou 
wast  not  even  in  thine  own  country  to  cease  from  thy 
sleights  and  knavish  words,  which  thou  lovest  from  the 
bottom  of  thine  heart  I  But  come,  no  more  let  us  tell  of 
these  things,  being  both  of  us  practised  in  deceits,  for  that 
thou  art  of  all  men  far  the  first  in  counsel  and  in  discourse, 
and  I  in  the  company  of  all  the  gods  win  renown  for  my  wit 


ODYSSEY  X/I/,   299-330.  217 

and  wile.  Yet  thou  knewest  not  me,  Pallas  Athene,  daughter 
of  Zeus,  who  am  always  by  thee  and  guard  thee  in  all 
adventures.  Yea,  and  I  made  thee  to  be  beloved  of  all  the 
Phaeacians.  And  now  am  I  come  hither  to  contrive  a  plot 
with  thee  and  to  hide  away  the  goods,  that  by  my  counsel 
and  design  the  noble  Phaeacians  gave  thee  on  thy  home- 
ward way.  And  I  would  tell  thee  how  great  a  measure  of 
trouble  thou  art  ordained  to  fulfil  within  thy  well-builded 
house.  But  do  thou  harden  thy  heart,  for  so  it  must  be, 
and  tell  none  neither  man  nor  woman  of  all  the  folk,  that 
thou  hast  indeed  returned  from  wandering,  but  in  silence  en- 
dure much  sorrow,  submitting  thee  to  the  despite  of  men.' 
And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying: 

*  Hard  is  it,  goddess,  for  a  mortal  man  that  meets  thee  to 
discern  thee,  howsoever  wise  he  be ;  for  thou  t^kest  upon 
thee  every  shape.  But  this  I  know  well,  that  of  old  thou 
wast  kindly  to  me,  so  long  as  we  sons  of  the  Achaeans 
made  war  in  Troy.  But  so  soon  as  we  had  sacked  the 
steep  city  of  Priam  and  had  gone  on  board  our  ships,  and 
the  god  had  scattered  the  Achaeans,  thereafter  I  have  never 
beheld  thee,  daughter  of  Zeus,  nor  seen  thee  coming  on 
board  my  ship,  to  ward  off  sorrow  from  me.  But  I  wandered 
evermore  with  a  stricken  heart,  till  the  gods  delivered  me 
from  my  evil  case,  even  till  the  day  when,  within  the  fat  land 
of  the  men  of  Phaeacia,  thou  didst  comfort  me  with  thy 
words,  and  thyself  didst  lead  me  to  their  city.  And  now 
I  beseech  thee  in  thy  father's  name  to  tell  me :  for  I  deem 
not  that  I  am  come  to  clear-seen  Ithaca,  but  1  roam  over 
some  other  land,  and  methinks  that  thou  speakest  thus  to 
mock  me  and  beguile  my  mind.  Tell  me  whether  in  very 
deed  I  am  com^  to  mine  own  dear  country.' 

Then   the   goddess,  grey-eyed    Athene,    answered   him  : 

*  Yea,  such  a  thought  as  this  is  ever  in  thy  breasL     Where* 


2l8  ODVSSEV  XIII,  ^i?^^-^^^^ 

fore  I  may  in  no  wise  leave  thee  in  all  thy  grief,  so  wary  art 
tliou,  so  ready  of  wit  and  so  prudent.  Right  gladly  would 
any  other  man  on  his  return  from  wandering  have  hasted  to 
behold  his  children  and  his  wife  in  his  halls ;  but  thou  hast 
no  will  to  learn  or  to  hear  aught,  till  thou  hast  furthermore 
made  trial  of  thy  wife,  who  sits  as  ever  in  her  halls,  and 
wearily  for  her  the  nights  wane  always  and  the  days,  in 
shedding  of  tears.  But  of  this  I  never  doubted,  but  ever 
knew  it  in  my  heart  that  thou  wouldest  come  home  with  the 
loss  of  all  thy  company.  Yet,  I  tell  thee,  I  had  no  mind  to 
be  at  strife  with  Poseidon,  my  own  father's  brother,  who  laid 
up  wrath  in  his  heart  against  thee,  being  angered  at  the 
blinding  of  his  dear  son.  But  come,  and  I  will  show  thee  the 
place  of  the  dwelling  of  Ithaca,  that  thou  mayst  be  assured. 
Lo,  here  is  the  haven  of  Phorcys,  the  ancient  one  of  the 
sea,  and  here  at  the  haven's  head  is  the  olive  tree  with 
spreading  leaves,  and  hard  by  it  is  the  pleasant  cave  and 
shadowy,  sacred  to  the  nymphs  that  are  called  the  Naiads. 
Yonder,  behold,  is  the  roofed  cavern,  where  thou  offeredst 
many  an  acceptable  sacrifice  of  hecatombs  to  the  nymphs ; 
and  lo,  this  hill  is  Neriton,  all  clothed  in  forest.' 

Therewith  the  goddess  scattered  the  mist,  and  the  land 
appeared.  Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  was  glad 
rejoicing  in  his  own  land,  and  he  kissed  the  earth,  the  grain- 
giver.  And  anon  he  prayed  to  the  nymphs,  and  lifted  up 
his  hands,  saying : 

*  Ye  Naiad  nymphs,  daughters  of  Zeus,  never  did  I  think 
to  look  on  you  again,  but  now  be  ye  greeted  in  my  loving 
prayers :  yea  and  gifts  as  aforetime  I  will  give,  if  the 
daughter  of  Zeus,  driver  of  the  spoil,  suffer  me  of  her  grace 
myself  to  live,  and  bring  my  dear  son  to  manhood.' 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  spake  to  him  again : 
'  Be  of  good  courage,  and  let  not  thy  heart  be  careful  about 


ODYSSEY  XIII,  3(53-391.  219 

these  things.  But  come,  let  us  straightway  set  thy  goods 
in  the  secret  place  of  the  wondrous  cave,  that  there  they 
may  abide  for  thee  safe.  And  let  us  for  ourselves  advise  us 
how  all  may  be  for  the  very  best.* 

Therewith  the  goddess  plunged  into  the  shadowy  cave, 
searching  out  the  chambers  of  the  cavern.  Meanwhile 
Odysseus  brought  up  his  treasure,  the  gold  and  the  unyield- 
ing bronze  and  fair  woven  raiment,  which  the  Phaeacians 
gave  him.  And  these  things  he  laid  by  with  care,  and  Pallas 
Athene,  daughter  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis,  set  a  stone 
against  the  door  of  the  cave.  Then  they  twain  sat  down 
by  the  trunk  of  the  sacred  olive  tree,  and  devised  death  for 
the  froward  wooers.  And  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene, 
spake  first,  saying: 

*  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  advise  thee  how  thou  mayest  stretch  forth  thine 
hands  upon  the  shameless  wooers,  who  now  these  three 
)'ears  lord  it  through  thy  halls,  as  they  woo  thy  godlike 
wife  and  proffer  the  gifts  of  wooing.  And  she,  that  is 
ever  bewailing  her  for  thy  return,  gives  hope  to  all  and 
makes  promises  to  every  man  and  sends  them  messages, 
but  her  mind  is  set  on  other  things.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her,  saying : 

*  Lo  now,  in  very  truth  I  was  like  to  have  perished  in  my 
halls  by  the  evil  doom  of  Agamemnon,  son  of  Atreus,  hadst 
not  thou,  goddess,  declared  me  each  thing  aright.  Come 
then,  weave  some  counsel  whereby  I  may  requite  them ;  and 
thyself  stand  by  me,  and  put  great  boldness  of  spirit  within 
me,  even  as  in  the  day  when  we  loosed  the  shining  coronal 
of  Troy.  If  but  thou  wouldest  stand  by  me  with  such 
eagerness,  thou  grey-eyed  goddess,  I  would  war  even  with 
three  hundred  men,  with  thee  my  lady  and  goddess,  if  thou 
of  thy  grace  didst  succour  me  the  while,' 


220  ODYSSEY  XIIT,  391-422. 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  answered  him:  *  Yea, 
verily  I  will  be  near  thee  nor  will  I  forget  thee,  whensoever 
we  come  to  this  toil:  and  methinks  that  certain  of  the 
wooers  that  devour  thy  livelihood  shall  bespatter  the  bound- 
less earth  with  blood  and  brains.  But  come,  I  will  make 
thee  such-like  that  no  man  shall  know  thee.  Thy  fair  skin  I 
will  wither  on  thy  supple  limbs,  and  make  waste  thy  yellow 
hair  from  off  thy  head,  and  wrap  thee  in  a  foul  garment, 
such  that  one  would  shudder  to  see  a  man  therein.*  And  I 
will  dim  thy  two  eyes,  erewhile  so  fair,  in  such  wise  that 
thou  mayest  be  unseemly  in  the  sight  of  all  the  wooers  and 
of  thy  wife  and  son,  whom  thou  didst  leave  in  thy  halls. 
And  do  thou  thyself  first  of  all  go  unto  the  swineherd,  who 
tends  thy  swine,  and  is  loyal  to  thee  as  of  old,  and  loves 
thy  son  and  constant  Penelope.  Him  shalt  thou  find  sitting 
by  the  swine,  as  they  are  feeding  near  the  rock  of  Corax  and 
the  spring  Arethusa,  and  there  they  eat  abundance  of  acorns 
and  drink  the  black  water,  things  that  make  in  good  case  the 
rich  flesh  of  swine.  There  do  thou  abide  and  sit  by  the 
swine,  and  find  out  all,  till  I  have  gone  to  Sparta,  the  land 
of  fair  women,  to  call  Telemachus  thy  dear  son,  Odysseus, 
who  hath  betaken  himself  to  spacious  Lacedaemon,  to  the 
house  of  Menelaus  to  seek  tidings  of  thee,  whether  haply 
thou  art  yet  alive.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying: 
'  Nay,  wherefore  then  didst  thou  not  tell  him,  seeing  thou 
hast  knowledge  of  all?  Was  it,  perchance,  that  he  too  may 
wander  in  sorrow  over  the  unharvested  seas,  and  that  others 
may  consume  his  livelihood  ? ' 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  answered  him  :  *  Nay, 
let  him  not  be  heavy  on  thy  heart.     I  myself  was  his  guide, 

•  Reading  avOparcoVf  not  avOpojnos  with  La  Rocbe, 


•  CD  YSSE  V  XIII,   At'^  2-440.  2  2  J 

that  by  going  thither  he  might  win  a  good  report.  Lo,  he 
knows  no  toil,  but  he  sits  in  peace  in  the  palace  of  the  son 
of  Atreus,  and  has  boundless  store  about  him.  Truly  the 
young  men  with  their  black  ship  they  lie  in  wait,  and  are 
eager  to  slay  him  ere  he  come  to  his  own  country.  But 
this,  methinks,  shall  never  be.  Yea,  sooner  shall  the  earth 
close  over  certain  of  the  wooers  that  devour  thy  livelihood.' 

Therewith  Athene  touched  him  with  her  wand.  His  fair 
flesh  she  withered  on  his  supple  limbs,  and  made  waste  his 
yellow  hair  Trom  off  his  head,  and  over  all  his  limbs  she  cast 
the  skin  of  an  old  man,  and  dimmed  his  two  eyes,  erewhile 
so  fair.  And  she  changed  his  raiment  to  a  vile  wrap  and  a 
doublet,  torn  garments  and  filthy,  stained  with  foul  smoke. 
And  over  all  she  clad  him  with  the  great  bald  hide  of  a  swift 
stag,  and  she  gave  him  a  staflf  and  a  mean  tattered  scrip, 
and  a  cord  therewith  to  hang  it. 

And  after  they  twain  had  taken  this  counsel  together,  they 
parted ;  and  she  now  went  to  goodly  Lacedaemon  to  fetch 
the  son  of  Odysseus. 


BOOK  XIV. 

Odysseus,  in  the  form  of  a  beggar,  goes  to  Eumaeus,  the  master  of  his 
swine,  where  he  is  well  used  and  tells  a  feigned  story,  and  informs  himsell 
of  the  behaviour  of  the  wooers. 

But  Odysseus  fared  forth  from  die  haven  by  the  rough 
track,  up  the  wooded  country  and  through  the  heights,  where 
Athene  had  showed  him  that  he  should  find  the  goodly 
swineherd,  who  cared  most  for  his  substance  of  all  the 
ihralls  that  goodly  Odysseus  had  gotten. 

Now  he  found  him  sitting  at  the  front  entry  of  the 
house,  where  his  courtyard  was  builded  high,  in  a  place  with 
wide  prospect ;  a  great  court  it  was  and  a  fair,  with  free  range 
round  it.  This  the  swineherd  had  builded  by  himself  for 
the  swine  of  his  lord  who  was  afar,  and  his  mistress  and 
the  old  man  Laertes  knew  not  of  it.  With  stones  dragged 
thither  had  he  builded  it,  and  coped  it  with  a  fence  of 
white  thorn,  and  he  had  split  an  oak  to  the  dark  core, 
and  without  he  had  driven  stakes  the  whole  length  thereof  on 
either  side,  set  thick  and  close;  and  within  the  courtyard 
he  made  twelve  styes  hard  by  one  another  to  be  beds  for  the 
swine,  and  in  each  stye  fifty  grovelling  swine  were  penned, 
brood  swine  ;  but  the  boars  slept  without.  Now  these  were 
far  fewer  in  number,  the  godlike  wooers  minishing  them  at 
their  feasts,  for  the  swineherd  ever  sent  in  the  best  of  all  the 
fatted  hogs.  And  their  tale  was  three  hundred  and  three- 
score. And  by  them  always  slept  four  dogs,  as  fierce  as  wild 
beasts,which  the  swineherd  had  bred,  a  master  of  men.  Now 
he  was  fitting  sandals  to  his  feet,  cutting  a  good  brown 


ODYSSEY  XIV,  2^-S2.  22^ 

oxhide,  while  the  rest  of  his  fellows,  three  in  all,  were  abroad 
this  way  and  that,  with  the  droves  of  swine  ;  while  the  fourth 
he  had  sent  to  the  city  to  take  a  boar  to  the  proud  wooers, 
as  needs  he  must,  that  they  might  sacrifice  it  and  satisfy 
their  soul  with  flesh. 

And  of  a  sudden  the  baying  dogs  saw  Odysseus,  and 
they  ran  at  him  yelping,  but  Odysseus  in  his  wariness  sat 
him  down,  and  let  the  staff  fall  from  his  hand.  There  by 
his  own  homestead  would  he  have  suffered  foul  hurt,  but 
the  swineherd  with  quick  feet  hasted  after  them,  and  sped 
through  the  outer  door,  and  let  the  skin  fall  from  his  hand. 
And  the  hounds  he  chid  and  drave  them  this  way  and 
that,  with  a  shower  of  stones,  and  he  spake  unto  his  lord, 
saying : 

*  Old  man,  truly  the  dogs  went  nigh  to  be  the  death  of 
thee  all  of  a  sudden,  so  shouldest  thou  have  brought  shame 
on  me.  Yea,  and  the  gods  have  given  me  other  pains  and 
griefs  enough.  Here  I  sit,  mourning  and  sorrowing  for  my 
godlike  lord,  and  foster  the  fat  swine  for  others  to  eat, 
while  he  in  lack  of  food,  it  may  be,  wanders  over  some  land 
and  city  of  men  of  a  strange  speech,  if  haply  he  yet  lives 
and  beholds  the  sunlight.  But  come  with  me,  let  us  to  the 
inner  steading,  old  man,  that  when  thy  heart  is  satisfied 
with  bread  and  wine,  thou  too  mayest  tell  thy  tale  and 
declare  whence  thou  art,  and  how  many  woes  thou  hast 
endured.' 

Therewith  the  goodly  swineherd  led  him  to  the  steading, 
and  took  him  in  and  set  him  down,  and  strewed  beneath 
him  thick  brushwood,  and  spread  thereon  the  hide  of  a 
shaggy  wild  goat,  wide  and  soft,  which  served  himself  for  a 
mattress.  And  Odysseus  rejoiced  that  he  had  given  him 
such  welcome,  and  spake  and  hailed  him : 

*  May  Zeus,  O  stranger,  and  all  the  other  deathless  gods 


224  ODVSSEV  XIV,  53-82. 

grant  thee  thy  dearest  wish,  since  thou  hast  received  me 
heartily  I ' 

Then,  O  swineherd  Eumaeus,  didst  thou  answer  him, 
saying  :  *  Guest  of  mine,  it  were  an  impious  thing  for  me 
to  slight  a  stranger,  even  if  there  came  a  meaner  man  than 
thou ;  for  from  Zeus  are  all  strangers  and  beggars ;  and  a 
Httle  gift  from  such  as  we,  is  dear ;  for  this  is  the  way  with 
thralls,  who  are  ever  in  fear  when  young  lords  like  ours 
bear  rule  over  them.  For  surely  the  gods  have  stayed  the 
returning  of  my  master,  who  would  have  loved  me  diligently, 
and  given  me  somewhat  of  my  own,  a  house  and  a  parcel 
of  ground,  and  a  comely*  wife,  such  as  a  kind  lord  gives  to 
his  man,  who  hath  laboured  much  for  him  and  the  work  of 
whose  hands  God  hath  likewise  increased,  even  as  he  in- 
creaseth  this  work  of  mine  whereat  I  abide.  Therefore  would 
my  lord  have  rewarded  me  greatly,  had  he  grown  old  at 
home.  But  he  hath  perished,  as  I  would  that  all  the  stock 
of  Helen  had  perished  utterly,  forasmuch  as  she  hath  caused 
the  loosening  of  many  a  man's  knees.  For  he  too  departed 
to  Ilios  of  the  goodly  steeds,  to  get  atonement  for  Aga- 
memnon, that  so  he  might  war  with  the  Trojans.' 

Therewith  he  quickly  bound  up  his  doublet  with  his  girdle, 
and  went  his  way  to  the  styes,  where  the  tribes  of  the  swine 
were  penned.  Thence  he  took  and  brought  forth  two,  and 
sacrificed  them  both,  and  singed  them  and  cut  them  small, 
and  spitted  them.  And  when  he  had  roasted  all,  he  bare 
and  set  it  by  Odysseus,  all  hot  as  it  was  upon  the  spits,  and 
he  sprinkled  thereupon  white  barley-meal.  Then  in  a  bowl 
of  ivywood  he  mixed  the  honey-sweet  wine,  and  himself  sat 
over  against  him  and  bade  him  fall  to  : 

'Eat  now,  stranger,  such  fare  as  thralls  have  to  hand,  even 
flesh  of  sucking  pigs ;  but  the  fatted  hogs  the  wooers  devour, 
for  they  know  not  the  wrath  of  the   gods  nor  any  pity. 

*  Reading  cvfiop<p6y. 


CDYSSEY  XIV,  83-114.  225 

Verily  the  blessed  gods  love  not  froward  deeds,  but  they 
reverence  justice  and  the  righteous  acts  of  men.  Yet  even  foes 
and  men  unfriendly,  that  land  on  a  strange  coast,  and  Zeus 
grants  them  a  prey,  and  they  have  laden  their  ships  and  depart 
for  home;  yea,  even  on  their  hearts  falls  strong  fear  of  the 
wrath  of  the  gods.  But  lo  you,  these  men  know  somewhat, — 
for  they  have  heard  an  utterance  of  a  god — ,  even  the  tidings 
of  thy  father's  evil  end,  seeing  that  they  are  not  minded  justly 
to  woo,  nor  to  go  back  to  their  own,  but  at  ease  they  devour 
our  wealth  with  insolence,  and  now  there  is  no  sparing.  For 
every  day  and  every  night  that  comes  from  Zeus,  they  make 
sacrifice  not  of  one  victim  only,  nor  of  two,  and  wine  they 
draw  and  waste  it  riotously.  For  surely  his  livelihood  was 
great  past  telling,  no  lord  in  the  dark  mainland  had  so  much, 
nor  any  in  Ithaca  itself;  nay,  not  twenty  men  together  have 
wealth  so  great,  and  I  will  tell  thee  the  sum  thereof.  Twelve 
herds  of  kine  upon  the  mainland,  as  many  flocks  of  sheep, 
as  many  droves  of  swine,  as  many  ranging  herds  of  goats, 
that  his  own  shepherds  and  strangers  pasture.  And  ranging 
herds  of  goats,  eleven  in  all,  graze  here  by  the  extremity  of 
the  island  with  trusty  men  to  watch  them.  And  day  by  day 
each  man  of  these  ever  drives  one  of  the  flock  to  the  wooers, 
whichsoever  seems  the  best  of  the  fatted  goals.  But  as  for 
me  I  guard  and  keep  these  swine  and  I  choose  out  for  them, 
as  well  as  I  may,  the  best  of  the  swine  and  send  it  hence/ 

So  spake  he,  but  Odysseus  ceased  not  to  eat  flesh  and 
drink  wine  right  eagerly  and  in  silence,  and  the  while  was 
sowing  the  seeds  of  evil  for  the  wooers.  Now  when  he  had 
well  eaten  and  comforted  his  heart  with  food,  then  the  herds- 
man filled  him  the  bowl  out  of  which  he  was  wont  himself 
to  drink,  and  he  gave  it  him  brimming  with  wine,  and  he 
took  it  and  was  glad  at  heart,  and  uttering  his  voice  spake 
to  him  winged  words  : 

Q 


226  ODYSSEY  XIV,  I15-146. 

*My  friend,  who  was  it  then  that  bought  thee  with  his 
wealth,  a  man  so  exceeding  rich  and  mighty  as  .thou 
(leclarest  ?  Thou  saidest  that  he  perished  to  get  atonement 
for  Agamemnon ;  tell  me,  if  perchance  I  may  know  him, 
being  such  an  one  as  thou  sayest.  For  Zeus,  methinks,  and 
ilie  other  deathless  gods  know  whether  I  have  seen  him  and 
may  bring  tidings  of  him ;  for  I  have  wandered  far.' 

Then  the  swineherd,  a  master  of  men,  answered  him : 
'  Old  man,  no  wanderer  who  came  hither  and  brought  tidings 
of  him  could  win  the  ear  of  his  wife  and  his  dear  son; 
but  lighdy  do  vagrants  lie  when  they  need  entertainment, 
and  care  not  to  tell  truth.  Whosoever  comes  straying  to 
the  land  of  Ithaca,  goes  to  my  mistress  and  speaks  words 
of  guile.  And  she  receives  him  kindly  and  lovingly  and 
inquires  of  all  things,  and  the  tears  fall  from  her  eyelids  for 
weeping,  as  is  meet  for  a  woman  when  her  lord  hath  died 
afar.  And  quickly  enough  wouldst  thou  too,  old  man,  forge 
a  tale,  if  any  would  but  give  thee  a  mande  and  a  doublet  for 
raiment.  But  as  for  him,  dogs  and  swift  fowls  are  like 
already  to  have  torn  his  skin  from  the  bones,  and  his  spirit 
hath  left  him.  Or  the  fishes  have  eaten  him  in  the  deep, 
and  there  lie  his  bones  swathed  in  sand-drift  on  the  shore. 
Yonder  then  hath  he  perished,  but  for  his  friends  nought 
is  ordained  but  care,  for  all,  but  for  me  in  chief.  For  never 
again  shall  I  find  a  lord  so  gentle,  how  far  soever  I  may  go, 
not  though  again  I  attain  unto  the  house  of  my  father 
and  my  mother,  where  at  first  I  was  born,  and  they 
nourished  me  themselves  and  with  their  own  hands  they 
reared  me.  Nor  henceforth  it  is  not  for  these  that  I  sorrow 
so  much,  though  I  long  to  behold  them  with  mine  eyes  in 
mine  own  country,  but  desire  takes  hold  of  me  for  Odysseus 
who  is  afar.  His  name,  stranger,  even  though  he  is  not 
here,  it  shameth  me  to  speak,  for  he  loved  me  exceedingly, 


ODYSSEY  XIV,   145-177.  227 

and  cared  for  me  at  heart;   nay,  I  call  him  "worshipful," 
albeit  he  is  far  hence/ 

Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  spake  to  him  again: 
*  My  friend,  forasmuch  as  thou  utterly  beliest  me,  and  sayest 
that  henceforth  he  will  not  come  again,  and  thine  heart 
is  ever  slow  to  believe,  therefore  will  I  tell  thee  not  lightly 
but  with  an  oath,  that  Odysseus  shall  return.  And  let  me 
have  the  wages  of  good  tidings  as  soon  as  ever  he  in  his 
journeying  shall  come  hither  to  his  home.  Then  clothe  me  in 
a  mantle  and  a  doublet,  goodly  raiment.  But  ere  that,  albeit 
I  am  sore  in  need  I  will  not  take  aught,  for  hateful  to 
me  even  as  the  gates  of  hell,  is  that  man,  who  under  stress 
of  poverty  speaks  words  of  guile.  Now  be  Zeus  my  witness 
before  any  god,  and  the  hospitable  board  and  the  hearth  of 
noble  Odysseus  whereunto  I  am  come,  that  all  these  things 
shall  surely  be  accomplished  even  as  I  tell  thee.  In  this  same 
year  Odysseus  shall  come  hither;  as  the  old  moon  wanes  and 
the  new  is  born  shall  he  return  to  his  home,  and  shall  take 
vengeance  on  all  who  here  dishonour  his  wife  and  noble  son.' 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  swineherd  Eumaeus: 
'Old  man,  it  is  not  1  then,  that  shall  ever  pay  thee  these 
wages  of  good  tidings,  nor  henceforth  shall  Odysseus  ever 
come  to  his  home.  Nay  drink  at  ease,  and  let  us  turn  our 
thoughts  to  other  matters,  and  bring  not  these  to  my  remem- 
brance, for  surely  my  heart  within  me  is  sorrowful  whenever 
any  man  puts  me  in  mind  of  my  true  lord.  But  as  for  thine 
oath,  we  will  let  it  be ;  but  I  pray  that  Odysseus  may  come 
according  to  my  desire,  and  the  desire  of  Penelope  and  of 
that  old  man  Laertes  and  godlike  Telemachus.  But  now  I 
make  a  comfortless  lament  for  the  boy  begotten  of  Odysseus, 
even  for  Telemachus.  When  the  gods  had  reared  him 
like  a  young  sapling,  and  I  thought  that  he  would  be 
no  worse  man  among  men  than  his  dear  fatKer,  glorious  in 

Q  a 


228  ODVSSEV  XIV,   178-21I 

form  and  face,  some  god  or  some  man  marred  his  good 
wits  within  him,  and  he  went  to  fair  Pylos  after  tidings  of 
his  sire.  And  now  the  lordly  wooers  lie  in  wait  for  him 
on  his  way  home,  that  the  race  of  godlike  Arceisius  may 
perish  nameless  out  of  Ithaca.  Howbeit,  no  more  of  him 
now,  whether  he  shall  be  taken  or  whether  he  shall  escape, 
and  Cronion  stretch  out  his  hand  to  shield  him.  But  come, 
old  man,  do  thou  tell  me  of  thine  own  troubles.  And 
herein  tell  me  true,  that  I  may  surely  know.  Who  art  thou 
of  the  sons  of  men,  and  whence  ?  Where  is  thy  city,  where 
are  they  that  begat  thee  ?  Say  on  what  manner  of  ship  didst 
thou  come,  and  how  did  sailors  bring  thee  to  Ithaca,  and 
who  did  they  avow  them  to  be  ?  For  in  nowise  do  I  deem 
that  thou  earnest  hither  by  land.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying  : 
*Yea  now,  I  will  tell  thee  all  most  plainly.  Might  we  have 
food  and  sweet  wine  enough  to  last  for  long,  while  we  abide 
within  thy  hut  to  feast  thereon  in  quiet,  and  others  betake 
them  to  their  work ;  then  could  I  easily  speak  for  a  whole 
year,  nor  yet  make  a  full  end  of  telling  all  the  troubles  of  my 
spirit,  all  the  travail  I  have  wrought  by  the  will  of  the  gods. 

*  I  AVOW  that  I  come  by  lineage  from  wide  Crete,  and  am  the 
son  of  a  wealthy  man.  And  many  other  sons  he  had  born  and 
bred  in  the  halls,  lawful-born  of  a  wedded  wife;  but  the  mother 
that  bare  me  was  a  concubine  bought  with  a  price.  Yet  Castor 
son  of  Hylax,  of  whose  blood  I  avow  me  to  be,  gave  me  no  less 
honour  than  his  lawful  sons.  Now  he  at  that  time  got  wor- 
ship even  as  a  god  from  the  Cretans  in  the  land,  for  wealth  and 
nches  and  sons  renowned.  Howbeit  the  fates  of  death  bare 
him  away  to  the  house  of  Hades,  and  his  gallant  sons  divided 
among  them  his  living  and  cast  lots  for  it.  But  to  me  they 
gave  a  very  small  gift  and  assigned  me  a  dwelling,  and  I 
took  unto  me  a  wife,  the  daughter  of  men  that  had  wide  lands, 


ODVSSEV  XIV,  212-245.  229 

by  reason  of  my  valour,  for  that  I  was  no  weakling  nor  a 
dastard;  but  now  all  my  might  has  failed  me, yet  even  so  I  deem 
that  thou  mightest  guess  from  seeing  the  stubble  what  the  grain 
has  been,  for  of  trouble  I  have  plenty  and  to  spare.  But  then 
verily  did  Ares  and  Athene  give  me  baldness  and  courage  to 
hurl  through  the  press  of  men ;  and  so  often  as  I  chose  the  best 
warriors  for  an  ambush,  sowing  the  seeds  of  evil  for  my  foemen, 
no  boding  of  death  was  in  my  lordly  heart,  but  I  would  leap  out 
the  foremost  and  slay  with  the  spear  whoso  of  my  foes  was 
less  fleet  of  foot  than  I.  Such  an  one  was  I  in  war,  but  the 
labour  of  the  field  I  never  loved,  nor  home-keeping  thrift,  that 
breeds  brave  children,  but  galleys  with  their  oars  were  dear 
to  me,  and  wars  and  polished  shafts  and  darts — baneful 
things  whereat  others  use  to  shudder.  But  that,  methinks, 
was  dear  to  me  which  the  god  put  in  my  heart,  for  divers  men 
take  delight  in  divers  deeds.  For  ere  ever  the  sons  of  the 
Achaeans  had  set  foot  on  the  land  of  Troy,  I  had  nine  times 
been  a  leader  of  men  and  of  swift- faring  ships  against  a  strange 
people,  and  wealth  fell  ever  to  my  hands.  Of  the  booty  I 
would  choose  out  for  me  all  that  I  craved,  and  much  thereafter 
I  won  by  lot.  So  my  house  got  increase  speedily,  and  thus 
I  waxed  dread  and  honourable  among  the  Cretans.  But  when 
Zeus,  of  the  far-borne  voice,  devised  at  the  last  that  hateful 
path  which  loosened  the  knees  of  many  a  man  in  death, 
then  the  people  called  on  me  and  on  renowned  Idomeneus 
to  lead  the  ships  to  Ilios,  nor  was  there  any  way  whereby  to 
refuse,  for  the  people's  voice  bore  hard  upon  us.  There  we 
sons  of  the  Achaeans  warred- for  nine  whole  years,  and  then 
in  the  tenth  year  we  sacked  the  city  of  Priam,  and  departed 
homeward  with  our  ships,  and  a  god  scattered  the  Achaeans. 
But  Zeus,  the  counsellor,  devised  mischief  against  me,  wretched 
man  that  I  was !  For  one  month  only  I  abode  and  had  joy  in 
my  children  and  my  gentle  wife,  and  all  that  I  had ;  and  there- 


230  ODVSSEV  XIV,  246-279. 

after  my  spirit  bade  me  fit  out  ships  in  the  best  manner  and 
sail  to  Egypt  with  my  godlike  company.  Nine  ships  I.  fitted 
out  and  the  host  was  gathered  quickly;  and  then  for  six 
days  my  dear  company  feasted,  and  I  gave  them  many 
victims  that  they  rmgh^  sacrifice  to  the  gods  and  prepare  a 
feast  for  themselves.  But  on  the  seventh  day  we  set  sail 
from  wide  Crete,  with  a  North  Wind  fresh  and  fair,  and  lightly 
we  ran  as  it  were  down  stream,  yea  and  no  harm  came  to  any 
ship  of  mine,  but  v/e  sat  safe  and  hale,  while  the  wind  and 
the  pilots  guided  the  barques.  And  on  the  fifth  day  we 
came  to  the  fair- flowing  Aegyplus,  and  in  the  river  Aegyptus 
I  stayed  my  curved  ships.  Then  verily  I  bade  my  dear  com- 
panions to  abide  there  by  the  ships  and  to  guard  ihern,  and 
I  sent  forth  scouts  to  range  the  points  of  outlook.  But  my 
men  gave  place  to  wantonness,  being  the  fools  of  their  own 
force,  and  soon  they  fell  to  wasting  ihe  fields  of  the  Egyptians, 
exceeding  fair,  and  led  away  their  wives  and  infant  children 
and  slew  the  men.  And  the  cry  came  quickly  to  the  city, 
and  the  people  hearing  the  shout  came  forth  at  the  breaking 
of  the  day,  and  all  the  plain  was  filled  with  footmen  and 
horsemen  and  with  the  glitter  of  bronze.  And  Zeus,  whose 
joy  is  in  the  thunder,  sent  an  evil  panic  upon  my  company, 
and  none  durst  stand  and  face  the  foe,  for  danger  encom- 
passed us  on  every  side.  There  they  slew  many  of  us  with 
the  edge  of  the  sword,  and  others  they  led  up  with  them 
alive  to  work  for  them  perforce.  But  as  for  me,  Zeus  him- 
self put  a  thought  into  my  heart;  would  to  God  that  I  had 
rather  died,  and  met  my  fate  there  in  Egypt,  for  sorrow  was 
still  mine  host !  Straightway  I  put  off  my  well-wrought 
helmet  from  my  head,  and  the  shield  from  off  my  shoulders, 
and  I  cast  away  my  spear  from  my  hand,  and  I  came  over 
against  the  horses  of  the  king,  and  clasped  and  kissed  his 
knees,  and  he  saved  me  and  delivered  me,  and  setting  me 


ODYSSEY  XIV,  280-313.  S3 1 

on  his  own  chariot  took  me  weeping  to  his  home.  Truly- 
many  an  one  made  at  me  with  their  ashen  spears,  eager  to  slay 
me,  for  verily  they  were  sore  angered.  But  the  king  kept 
them  off  and  had  respect  unto  the  wrath  of  Zeus,  the  god 
of  strangers,  who  chiefly  hath  displeasure  at  evil  deeds.  So 
for  seven  whole  years  I  abode  with  their  king,  and  gathered 
much  substance  among  the  Egyptians,  for  they  all  gave  me 
gifts.  But  when  the  eighth  year  came  in  due  season,  there 
arrived  a  Phoenician  practised  in  deceit,  a  greedy  knave, 
who  had  already  done  much  mischief  among  men.  He 
wrought  on  me  with  his  cunning,  and  took  me  with  him 
until  he  came  to  Phoenicia,  where  was  his  house  and  where 
his  treasures  lay.  There  I  abode  with  him  for  the  space  of 
a  full  year.  But  when  now  the  months  and  d?7s  were  ful- 
filled, as  the  year  came  round  and  the  seasons  returned,  he 
set  me  aboard  a  seafaring  ship  for  Libya  on  a  false  pretence, 
forsooth  that  I  was  to  convey  a  cargo  with  him,  but  his  pur- 
pose was  to  sell  me  in  Libya,  and  get  a  great  price.  So 
I  went  with  him  on  board,  as  needs  I  must,  suspecting  all. 
And  the  ship  ran  before  a  North  Wind  fresh  and  fair,  through 
the  mid  sea  over  beyond  Crete,  and  Zeus  contrived  the  de- 
struction of  the  crew.  But  when  we  left  Crete,  and  no  land 
showed  in  sight  but  sky  and  sea  only,  even  then  the  son  of 
Cronos  stayed  a  dark  cloud  over  the  hollow  ship,  and  the 
deep  waxed  dark  beneath  it.  And  in  the  same  moment  Zeus 
thundered  and  smote  his  bolt  into  the  ship,  and  she  reeled  all 
over  being  stricken  by  the  bolt  of  Zeus,  and  was  filled  with  fire 
and  brimstone,  and  all  the  crew  fell  overboard.  And  like  sea- 
gulls they  were  borne  hither  and  thither  on  the  waves  about 
the  black  ship,  and  the  god  cut  off  their  return.  But  in  this 
hour  of  my  affliction  Zeus  himself  put  into  my  hands  the  huge 
mast  of  the  dark-prowed  ship,  that  even  yet  I  might  escape 
from  harm.     So  I  clung  round  the  mast  and  was  borne  by 


23«  CDVSSEY  XIV,  <5T4-344 

the  ruinous  winds.  For  nine  days  was  I  borne,  and  on  the 
tenth  black  night  the  great  rolling  wave  brought  me  nigh  to 
the  land  of  the  Thesprotians.  There  the  king  of  the  Thes- 
protians,  the  lord  Pheidon,  took  me  in  freely,  for  his  dear 
son  lighted  on  me  and  raised  m€  by  the  hand  and  led  me  to 
his  house,  foredone  with  toil  and  the  keen  air,  till  he  came 
to  his  father's  palace.  And  he  clothed  me  in  a  mantle  and 
a  doublet  for  raiment. 

*  There  I  heard  tidings  of  Odysseus,  for  the  king  told  me 
that  he  had  entertained  him,  and  kindly  entreated  him  on 
his  way  to  his  own  country ;  and  he  showed  me  all  the 
wealth  that  Odysseus  had  gathered,  bronze  and  gold  and 
well-wrought  iron ;  yea  it  would  suffice  for  his  children  after 
him  even  to  the  tenth  generation,  so  great  were  the  treasures 
he  had  stored  in  the  chambers  of  the  king.  He  had  gone, 
he  said,  to  Dodona  to  hear  the  counsel  of  Zeus,  from  the 
high  leafy  oak  tree  of  the  god,  how  he  should  return  to  the 
fat  land  of  Ithaca  after  long  absence,  whether  openly  or  by 
stealth.  Moreover,  he  sware,  in  mine  own  presence,  as  he 
poured  the  drink  offering  in  his  house,  that  the  ship  was  drawn 
down  to  the  sea  and  his  company  were  ready,  who  were 
to  convey  him  to  his  own  dear  country.  But  me  he  first 
sent  off,  for  it  chanced  that  a  ship  of  the  Thesprotians 
was  starting  for  Dulichium,  a  land  rich  in  grain.  Thither 
he  bade  them  guide  me  with  all  diligence  to  the  king 
Acastus.  But  an  evil  counsel  concerning  me  found  favour 
in  their  sight,  that  even  yet  I  might  reach  the  extremity  of 
sorrow.  When  the  seafaring  ship  had  sailed  a  great  way 
from  the  land,  anon  they  sought  how  they  might  compass 
for  me  the  day  of  slavery.  They  stript  me  of  my  garments, 
my  mande  and  a  doublet,  and  changed  my  raiment  to  a  vile 
wrap  and  doublet,  tattered  garments,  even  those  thou  seest 
now  before  thee ;  and  in  the  evening  they  reached  the  fields 


ODYSSEY  XIV,  344-37^'    '  '^?>?> 

of  clear- seen  Ithaca.  There  in  the  decked  ship  they  bound 
me  closely  with  a  twisted  rope,  and  themselves  went  ashore, 
and  hasted  to  take  supper  by  the  sea-banks.  Meanwhile 
the  gods  themselves  lightly  unclasped  my  bands,  and 
muffling  my  head  with  the  wrap  I  slid  down  the  smooth 
ladder  at  the  stern,  and  set  my  breast  to  the  sea  and 
rowed  hard  with  both  hands  as  I  swam,  and  very  soon 
I  was  out  of  the  water  and  beyond  their  reach.  Then  I 
went  up  where  there  was  a  thicket,  a  wood  in  full  leaf,  and 
lay  there  crouching.  And  they  went  hither  and  thither 
making  great  moan ;  but  when  now  it  seemed  to  them  little 
good  to  go  further  on  their  quest,  they  departed  back  again 
aboard  their  hollow  ship.  And  the  gods  themselves  hid  me 
easily  and  brought  me  nigh  to  the  homestead  of  a  wise  man; 
for  still,  methinks,  I  am  ordained  to  live  on.* 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer  to  him,  swineherd 
Eumaeus  :  *  Ah !  wretched  guest,  verily  thou  hast  stirred  my 
heart  with  the  tale  of  all  these  things,  of  thy  sufferings  and 
thy  wanderings.  Yet  herein,  methinks,  thou  speakest  not 
aright,  and  never  shalt  thou  persuade  me  with  the  tale  about 
Odysseus ;  why  should  one  in  thy  plight  lie  vainly  ?  Well 
I  know  of  mine  own  self,  as  touching  my  lord's  return,  that 
he  was  utterly  hated  by  all  the  gods,  in  that  they  smote  him 
not  among  the  Trojans  nor  in  the  arms  of  his  friends,  when 
he  had  wound  up  the  clew  of  war.  So  should  the  whole 
Achaean  host  have  builded  him  a  barrow ;  yea  and  for  his 
son  would  he  have  won  great  glory  in  the  after  days ;  but 
now  all  ingloriously  the  spirits  of  the  storm  have  snatched  him 
away.  But  as  for  me  I  dwell  apart  by  the  swine  and  go  not 
to  the  city,  unless  perchance  wise  Penelope  summons  me 
thither,  when  tidings  of  my  master  are  brought  I  know  not 
whence.  Now  all  the  people  sit  round  and  straitly  question 
the  news-bearer,  both  such  as  grieve  for  their  lord  that  is  long 


234  ODYSSEY  XIV,  377-407. 

gone,  and  such  as  rejoice  in  devouring  his  living  without  atone- 
ment. But  I  have  no  care  to  ask  or  to  inquire,  since  theday 
that  an  Aetolian  cheated  me  with  his  story,  one  who  had 
slain  his  man  and  wandered  over  wide  lands  and  came  to 
my  steading,  and  I  dealt  lovingly  with  him.  He  said  that 
he  had  seen  my  master  afnong  the  Cretans  at  the  house  of 
Idomencus,  mending  his  ships  which  the  storms  had  broken. 
And  he  said  that  he  would  come  home  either  by  the  summer 
or  the  harvest-tide,  bringing  much  wealth  with  the  godlike 
men  of  his  company.  And  thou  too  old  man  of  many 
sorrows,  seeing  that  some  god  hath  brought  thee  to  me, 
seek  not  my  grace  with  lies,  nor  give  me  any  such  comfort ; 
not  for  this  will  I  have  respect  to  thee  or  hold  thee  dear, 
but  only  for  the  fear  of  Zeus,  the  god  of  strangers,  and  for 
pity  of  thyself.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying: 
*  Verily  thy  heart  within  thee  is  slow  to  believe,  seeing  that 
even  with  an  oath  I  have  not  won  thee,  nor  find  credence 
with  thee.  But  come  now,  let  us  make  a  covenant ;  and  we 
will  each  one  have  for  witnesses  the  gods  above,  who  hold 
Olympus.  If  thy  lord  shall  return  to  this  house,  put  on 
me  a  mantle  and  doublet  for  raiment,  and  send  me  on  my 
way  to  Dulichium,  whither  I  had  a  desire  to  go.  But  if  thy 
lord  return  not  according  to  my  word,  set  thy  thralls  upon 
me,  and  cast  me  down  from  a  mighty  rock,  that  another 
beggar  in  his  turn  may  beware  of  deceiving.' 

And  the  goodly  swineherd  answered  him,  saying :  *  Yea 
stranger,  even  so  should  I  get  much  honour  and  good  luck 
among  men  both  now  and  ever  hereafter,  if  after  bringing  thee 
to  my  hut  and  giving  thee  a  stranger's  cheer,  I  should  turn 
again  and  slay  thee  and  take  away  thy  dear  life.  With 
good  heart  thereafter  would  I  pray  to  Zeus  the  son  of 
Cronos!     But  now  it  is  supper-time,  and  would  that  my 


ODYSSEY  XIV,  407-437.  S35 

fellows  may  speedily  be  at  home,  that  we  may  make  ready 
a  dainty  supper  within  the  hut.' 

Thus  they  spake  one  to  the  other.  And  lo,  the  swine 
and  the  swineherds  drew  nigh.  And  the  swine  they  shut  up 
to  sleep  in  their  lairs,  and  a  mighty  din  arose  as  the  swine 
were  being  stalled.  Then  the  goodly  swineherd  called  to  his 
fellows,  saying : 

*  Bring  the  best  of  the  swine,  that  I  may  sacrifice  it  for 
a  guest  of  mine  from  a  far  land :  and  we  too  will  have  good 
cheer  therewith,  for  we  have  long  suffered  and  toiled  by 
reason  of  the  white-tusked  swine,  while  others  devour  the 
fruit  of  our  labour  without  atonement/ 

Therewithal  he  cleft  logs  with  the  pitiless  axe,  and  the 
others  brought  in  a  well-fatted  boar  of  five  years  old ;  and 
they  set  him  by  the  hearth  nor  did  the  swineherd  forget  the 
deathless  gods,  for  he  was  of  an  understanding  heart.  But  for 
a  beginning  of  sacrifice  he  cast  bristles  from  the  head  of  the 
white-tusked  boar  upon  the  fire,  and  prayed  to  all  the  gods 
that  wise  Odysseus  might  return  to  his  own  house.  Then  he 
stood  erect,  and  smote  the  boar  with  a  billet  of  oak  which  he 
had  left  in  the  cleaving,  and  the  boar  yielded  up  his  life. 
Then  they  cut  the  throat  and  singed  the  carcase  and  quickly 
cut  it  up,  and  the  swineherd  took  a  first  portion  from  all  the 
limbs,  and  laid  the  raw  flesh  on  the  rich  fat.  And  some  pieces 
he  cast  into  the  fire  after  sprinkling  them  with  bruised  barley- 
meal,  and  they  cut  the  rest  up  small,  and  pierced  it,  and  spitted 
and  roasted  it  carefully,  and  drew  it  all  off  from  the  spits,  and 
put  the  whole  mess  together  on  trenchers.  Then  the  swine- 
herd stood  up  to  carve,  for  well  he  knew  what  was  fair,  and 
he  cut  up  the  whole  and  divided  it  into  seven  portions. 
One,  when  he  had  prayed,  he  set  aside  for  the  nymphs  and 
for  Hermes  son  of  Maia,  and  the  rest  he  distributed  to 
each.     And  he  gave  Odysseus  the  portion  of  honour,  the 


23^  ODVSSEV  XIV,  438-457. 

long  back  of  the  white-tusked  boar,  and  the  soul  of  his  lord 
rejoiced  at  this  renown,  and  Odysseus  of  many  counsels 
hailed  him  saying: 

*  Eumaeus,  oh  that  thou  mayest  so  surely  be  dear  to 
father  Zeus,  as  thou  art  to  me,  seeing  that  thou  honourest 
me  wilh  a  good  portion,  such  an  one  as  I  am!' 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  swineherd  Eumaeus: 

*  Eat,  luckless  stranger,  and  make  merry  with  such  fare  as 
is  here.  And  one  thing  the  god  will  give  and  another  with- 
hold, even  as  he  will,  for  with  him  all  things  are  possible.' 

So  he  spake,  and  made  burnt  offering  of  the  hallowed 
parts  to  the  everlasting  gods,  and  poured  the  dark  wine  for  a 
drink  offering,  and  set  the  cup  in  the  hands  of  Odysseus, 
the  waster  of  cities,  and  sat  down  by  his  own  mess.  And 
Mesaulius  bare  them  wheaten  bread,  a  thrall  that  the  swine- 
herd had  gotten  all  alone,  while  his  lord  was  away,  without 
the  knowledge  of  his  mistress  and  the  old  Laertes :  yea  he 
had  bought  him  of  the  Taphians  with  his  own  substance.  So 
they  stretched  forth  their  hands  upon  the  good  cheer  spread 
before  them.  Now  after  they  had  put  from  them  the  desire 
of  meat  and  drink,  Mesaulius  cleared  away  the  bread,  and 
they,  now  that  they  had  eaten  enough  of  bread  and  flesh, 
were  moved  to  go  to  rest. 

Now  it  was  so  that  night  came  on  foul  with  a  blind 
moon,  and  Zeus  rained  the  whole  night  through,  and  still  the 
great  West  Wind,  the  rainy  wind,  was  blowing.  Th.n 
Odysseus  spake  among  them  that  he  might  make  trial  of 
the  swineherd,  and  see  whether  he  would  take  off  his  own 
mantle  and  give  it  to  him  or  bid  one  of  his  company  strip, 
since  he  cared  for  him  so  greatly : 

*  Listen  now,  Eumaeus,  and  all  of  you  his  companions,  I 
will  utter  a  prayer  and  then  tell  my  tale ;  so  bids  me  witless 
wine,  which  drives  even  the  wisest  to  sing  and  to  laugh  softly, 


ODYSSEY  XIV,  467-495-  'i>'^1 

and  rouses  him  to  dance,  yea  and  makes  him  to  speak  out  a 
word  which  were  better  unspoken.  Howbeit,  now  that  I  have 
broken  into  speech,  I  will  not  hide  aught.  Oh  that  I  were 
young,  and  my  might  were  steadfast,  as  in  the  day  when  we 
arrayed  our  ambush  and  led  it  beneath  Troy  town!  And 
Odysseus,  and  Menelaus  son  of  Atreus,  were  leaders  and 
with  them  I  was  a  third  in  command ;  for  so  they  bade  me. 
Now  when  we  had  come  to  the  city  and  the  steep  wall,  we 
lay  about  the  citadel  in  the  thick  brushwood,  crouching 
under  our  arms  among  the  reeds  and  the  marsh  land,  and 
behold,  the  night  came  on  foul,  with  frost,  as  the  North 
Wind  went  down,  while  the  snow  fell  from  above,  and  crusted 
like  rime,  bitter  cold,  and  the  ice  set  thick  about  our  shields. 
Now  the  others  all  had  mantles  and  doublets,  and  slept  in 
peace  with  their  shields  buckled  close  about  their  shoulders ; 
but  I  as  I  went  forth  had  left  my  mantle  behind  with 
my  men,  in  my  folly,  thinking  that  even  so  I  should  not 
be  cold :  so  I  came  with  my  shield  alone,  and  my  shining 
doublet.  But  when  it  was  now  the  third  watch  of  the  night 
and  the  stars  had  passed  the  zenith,  in  that  hour  I  spake 
unto  Odysseus  who  was  nigh  me,  and  thrust  him  with  my 
elbow,  and  he  listened  straightway  : 

*  "  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  verily  I  shall  cease  from  among  living  men,  for  this 
wintry  cold  is  slaying  me,  seeing  that  I  have  no  mantle. 
Some  god  beguiled  me  to  wear  a  doublet  only,  and  hence- 
foi  th  is  no  way  of  escape.*' 

*  So  I  spake,  and  he  apprehended  a  thought  in  his  heart, 
such  an  one  as  he  was  in  counsel  and  in  fight.  So  he 
whispered  and  spake  to  me,  saying : 

• "  Be  silent  now,  lest  some  other  Achaeans  hear  thee." 
Therewith  he  raised  his  head  upon  his  elbow,  and  spake, 
saying:    "Listen,  friends,  a  vision  from   a  god  came  to 


238  ODYSSEY  XIV,  495-525. 

me  in  my  sleep.  Lo,  we  have  come  very  far  from  the 
ships;  I  would  there  were  one  to  tell  it  to  Agamemnon, 
son  of  Atreus,  shepherd  of  the  host,  if  perchance  he  may 
send  us  hither  a  greater  company  from  the  ships." 

*  So  spake  he,  and  Thoas,  son  of  Andraemon,  rose  up 
quickly  and  cast  o^  his  purple  mantle.  And  he  started 
to  run  unto  the  ships,  but  I  lay  gladly  in  his  garment, 
and  the  golden-throned  Dawn  showed  her  light.  Oh !  that 
I  were  young  as  then  and  my  might  steadfast!  Then 
should  some  of  the  swineherds  in  the  homestead  give  me 
a  mantle,  alike  for  love's  sake  and  for  pity  of  a  good 
warrior.  But  now  they  scorn  me  for  that  sorry  raiment  is 
about  my  body.' 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  O  swineherd  Eumaeus : 
*  Old  man,  the  tale  that  thou  hast  told  in  his  praise  is  very 
good,  and  so  far  thou  hast  not  misspoken  aught,  or  uttered 
a  word  unprofitably.  Wherefore  for  this  night  thou  shalt 
lack  neither  raiment  nor  aught  else  that  is  the  due  of  a 
hapless  suppliant,  when  he  has  met  them  that  can  befriend 
him.  But  in  the  morning  thou  shalt  go  shuffling  in  thine 
own  rags,  for  there  are  not  many  mantles  here  or  changes 
of  doublet;  for  each  man  hath  but  one  coat.  But  when 
the  dear  son  of  Odysseus  comes,  he  himself  will  give  thee 
a  mantle  and  doublet  for  raiment,  and  send  thee  whither- 
soever thy  heart  and  spirit  bid.' 

With  that  he  sprang  up  and  set  a  bed  for  Odysseus  near 
the  fire,  and  thereon  he  cast  skins  of  sheep  and  goats. 
There  Odysseus  laid  him  down  and  Eumaeus  cast  a  great 
thick  mantle  over  him,  which  he  had  ever  by  him  for  a 
change  of  covering,  when  any  terrible  storm  should  arise. 

So  there  Odysseus  slept,  and  the  young  men  slept  beside 
him.  But  the  swineherd  had  no  mind  to  lie  there  in  a  bed 
away  from  the  boars.     So  he  made  him  ready  to  go  forth 


ODYSSEY  XIV,  ^%^-SZ'^.  *39 

and  Odysseus  was  glad,  because  he  had  a  great  care  for 
his  master's  substance  while  he  was  afar.  First  he  cast  his 
sharp  sword  about  his  strong  shoulders,  then  he  clad  him 
in  a  very  thick  mantle,  to  keep  the  wind  away;  and  he 
caught  up  the  fleece  of  a  great  and  well-fed  goat,  and  seized 
his  sharp  javelin,  to  defend  him  against  dogs  and  men.  Then 
he  went  to  lay  him  down  even  where  the  white-tusked  boars 
were  sleeping,  beneath  the  hollow  of  the  rock,  in  a  place  of 
shelter  from  the  North  Wind. 


BOOK  XV. 

Pallas  sends  home  Telemachus  from  Lacedaemon  with  the  presents  giYca 
him  by  Menelaus.    Telemachus  landed,  goes  first  to  Eumaeus, 

Now  Pallas  Athene  went  to  the  wide  land  of  Lacedaemon, 
to  put  the  noble  son  of  the  great-hearted  Odysseus  in  mind 
of  his  return,  and  to  make  him  hasten  his  coming.  And 
she  found  Telemachus,  and  the  glorious  son  of  Nestor, 
couched  at  the  entry  of  the  house  of  famous  Menelaus. 
The  son  of  Nestor  truly  was  overcome  with  soft  sleep,  but 
sweet  sleep  gat  not  hold  of  Telemachus,  but,  through  the 
night  divine,  careful  thoughts  for  his  father  kept  him  wakeful. 
And  grey-eyed  Athene  stood  nigh  him  and  spake  to  him, 
saying : 

*  Telemachus,  it  is  no  longer  meet  that  thou  shouldest  wander 
far  from  thy  home,  leaving  thy  substance  behind  thee,  and 
men  in  thy  house  so  wanton,  lest  they  divide  and  utterly  devour 
all  thy  wealth,  and  thou  shalt  have  gone  on  a  vain  journey. 
But  come,  rouse  with  all  haste  Menelaus,  of  the  loud  war-cry, 
to  send  thee  on  thy  way,  that  thou  mayest  even  yet  find  thy 
noble  mother  in  her  home.  For  even  now  her  father  and 
her  brethren  bid  her  wed  Eurymachus,  for  he  outdoes  all 
the  wooers  in  his  presents,  and  hath  been  greatly  increasing 
his  gifts  of  wooing.  So  shall  she  take  no  treasure  from  thy 
house  despite  thy  will.  Thou  kno\^st  of  what  sort  is  the 
heart  of  a  woman  within  her ;  all  her  desire  is  to  increase 
the  house  of  the  man  who  takes  her  to  wife,  but  of  her 
former  children  and  of  her  own  dear  lord  she  has  no  more 


ODVSSEV  XV,  23-54.  241 

memory  once  he  is  dead,  and  she  asks  concerning  him  no 
more.  Go  then,  and  thyself  put  all  thy  livelihood  in  the 
hands  of  whatsoever  maid  seems  to  thee  the  best,  till 
the  day  when  the  gods  shall  show  thee  a  glorious 
bride.  Now  another  word  will  I  tell  thee,  and  do  thou 
lay  it  up  in  thine  heart.  The  noblest  of  the  wooers  lie 
in  wait  for  thee  of  purpose,  in  the  strait  between  Ithaca 
and  rugged  Samos,  eager  to  slay  thee  before  thou  come 
to  thine  own  country.  But  this,  methinks,  will  never  be; 
yea,  sooner  shall  the  earth  close  over  certain  of  the  wooers 
that  devour  thy  livelihood.  Nay,  keep  thy  well-wrought  ship 
far  from  those  ibles,  and  sail  by  night  as  well  as  day,  and 
he  of  the  immortals  who  hath  thee  in  his  keeping  and 
protection  will  send  thee  a  fair  breeze  in  thy  wake.  But 
when  thou  hast  touched  the  nearest  shore  of  Ithaca,  send  thy 
ship  and  all  thy  company  forward  to  the  city,  but  for  thy  part 
seek  first  the  swineherd  who  keeps  thy  swine,  and  is  loyal  to 
thee  as  of  old.  There  do  thou  rest  the  night,  and  bid  him 
go  to  the  city  to  bear  tidings  of  thy  coming  to  the  wise 
Penelope,  how  that  she  hath  got  thee  safe,  and  thou  art  come 
up  out  of  Pylos.' 

Therewith  she  departed  to  high  Olympus.  But  Telema- 
chus  woke  the  son  of  Nestor  out  of  sweet  sleep,  touching 
him  with  his  heel,  and  spake  to  him,  saying : 

*  Awake,  Peisistratus,  son  of  Nestor,  bring  up  thy  horses 
of  solid  hoof,  and  yoke  them  beneath  the  car,  that  we  may 
gel  forward  on  the  road.' 

Then  Peisistratus,  son  of  Nestor,  answered  him,  saying : 
*  Telemachus,  we  may  in  no  wise  drive  through  the  dark  night, 
how  eager  soever  to  be  gone ;  nay,  soon  it  will  be  dawn. 
Tarry  then,  till  the  hero,  the  son  of  Atreus,  spear- famed 
Menelaus,  brings  gifts,  and  sets  them  on  the  car,  and  be- 
speaks thee  kindly,  and  sends  thee   on  thy  way.     For  of 

R 


242  ODYSSEY  XV,  54-85. 

him  a  guest  is  mindful  all  the  days  of  his  life,  even  of  the 
host  that  shows  him  loving-kindness/ 

So  spake  he,  and  anon  came  the  golden-throned  Dawn. 
And  Menelaus,  of  the  loud  war  cry,  drew  nigh  to  them,  new 
risen  from  his  bed,  by  fair-haired  Helen.  Now  when  the 
dear  son  of  Odysseus  marked  him,  he  made  haste  and  girt 
his  shining  doublet  about  him,  and  the  hero  cast  a  great 
mantle  over  his  mighty  shoulders,  and  went  forth  at  the  door, 
and  Telemachus,  dear  son  of  divine  Odysseus,  came  up  and 
spake  to  Menelaus,  saying: 

*  Menelaus,  son  of  Atreus,  fosterling  of  Zeus,  leader  of  the 
people,  even  now  do  thou  speed  me  hence,  to  mine  own  dear 
country ;  for  even  now  my  heart  is  fain  to  come  home  again.' 

Then  Menelaus,  of  the  loud  war  cry,  answered  him: 
*  Telemachus,  as  for  thee,  I  will  not  hold  thee  a  long  time 
here,  that  art  eager  to  return ;  nay,  I  think  it  shame  even  in 
another  host,  who  loves  overmuch  or  hates  overmuch. 
Measure  is  best  in  all  things.  He  does  equal  wrong  who 
speeds  a  guest  that  would  fain  abide,  and  stays  one  who 
is  in  haste  to  be  gone.  Men  should  lovingly  entreat 
the  present  guest  and  speed  the  parting.  But  abide  till 
I  bring  fair  gifts  and  set  them  on  the  car  and  thine  own 
eyes  behold  them,  and  I  bid  the  women  to  prepare  the 
midday  meal  in  the  halls,  out  of  the  good  store  they  have 
within.  Honour  and  glory  it  is  for  us,  and  gain  withal 
for  thee,  that  ye  should  have  eaten  well  ere  ye  go  on  your 
way,  over  vast  and  limitless  lands.  And  if  thou  art  minded 
to  journey  through  Hellas  and  mid  Argos,  wait  till  I  too 
shall  go  with  thee,  and  yoke  thee  horses  and  lead  thee 
to  the  towns  of  men,  and  none  shall  send  us  empty  away, 
but  will  give  us  some  one  thing  to  take  with  us,  either 
a  tripod  of  goodly  bronze  or  a  cauldron,  or  two  mules  or 
a  golden  chalice.' 


OnVSSEV  XV,  86-116.  243 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying  :  '  Menelaus, 
son  of  Atreus,  fosterling  of  Zeus,  leader  of  the  people,  rather 
would  I  return  even  now  to  mine  own  land,  for  I  left  none 
behind  to  watch  over  my  goods  when  I  departed.  I  would 
not  that  I  myself  should  perish  on  the  quest  of  my  god- 
like father,  nor  that  any  good  heir-loom  should  be  lost  from 
my  halls/ 

Now  when  Menelaus,  of  the  loud  war  cry,  heard  this  saying, 
straightway  he  bade  his  wife  and  maids  to  prepare  the  midday 
meal  in  the  halls,  out  of  the  good  store  they  had  by  them. 
Then  Eteoneus,  son  of  Boethous,  came  nigh  him,  just  risen 
from  his  bed,  for  he  abode  not  far  from  him.  Him  Menelaus 
of  the  loud  war  cry  bade  kindle  the  fire  and  roast  of  the  flesh; 
and  he  hearkened  and  obeyed.  Then  the  prince  went  down 
into  the  fragrant  treasure  chamber,  not  alone,  for  Helen  . 
went  with  him,  and  Megapenthes.  Now,  when  they  came 
to  the  place  where  the  treasures  were  stored,  then  Atrides 
took  a  double  cup,  and  bade  his  son  Megapenthes  to  bear 
a  mixing  bowl  of  silver.  And  Helen  stood  by  the  coffers, 
wherein  were  her  robes  of  curious  needlework  which  she 
herself  had  wrought.  Then  Helen,  the  fair  lady,  lifted  one 
and  brought  it  out,  the  widest  and  most  beautifully  em- 
broidered of  all,  and  it  shone  like  a  star,  and  lay  far  beneath 
the  rest. 

Then  they  went  forth  through  the  house  till  they  came  to 
Telemachus ;  and  Menelaus,  of  the  fair  hair,  spake  to  him 
saying : 

*  Telemachus,  may  Zeus  the  thunderer,  and  the  lord  of 
Here,  in  very  truth  bring  about  thy  return  according  to  the 
desire  of  thy  heart.  And  of  the  gifts,  such  as  are  treasures 
stored  in  my  house,  I  will  give  thee  the  goodliest  and  greatest 
of  price.  I  will  give  thee  a  mixing  bowl  beautifully  wrought ; 
it  is  all  of  silver  and  the  lips  thereof  are  finished  with  gold, 

R  a 


244  ODVSSEV  XV,   I17-T49. 

the  work  of  Hephaestus ;  and  the  hero  Phaedimus  the  king 
of  the  Sidonians,  gave  it  to  me  when  his  house  sheltered 
me,  on  my  coming  thither.  This  cup  I  would  give  to 
thee.' 

Therewith  the  hero  Atrides  set  the  double  cup  in  his 
hands.  ,  And  the  strong  Megapenthes  bare  the  shining  silver 
bowl  and  set  it  before  him.  And  Helen  came  up,  beautiful 
Helen,  with  the  robe  in  her  hands,  and  spake  and  hailed  him  : 

*  Lo !  I  too  give  thee  this  gift,  dear  child,  a  memorial  of 
the  hands  of  Helen,  against  the  day  of  thy  desire,  even  of 
thy  bridal,  for  thy  bride  to  wear  it.  But  meanwhile  let  it  lie 
by  thy  dear  mother  in  her  chamber.  And  may  joy  go  with 
thee  to  thy  well-builded  house,  and  thine  own  country.' 

With  that  she  put  it  into  his  hands,  and  he  took  it  and 
was  glad.  And  the  hero  Peisistratus  took  the  gifts  and 
laid  them  in  the  chest  of  the  car,  and  gazed  on  all  and 
wondered.  Then  Menelaus  of  the  fair  hair  led  them  to  the 
house.  Then  they  twain  sat  them  down  on  chairs  and  high 
seats,  and  a  handmaid  bare  water  for  the  hands  in  a  goodly 
golden  ewer,  and  poured  it  forth  over  a  silver  basin  to  wash 
withal,  and  drew  to  their  side  a  polished  table.  And  a  grave 
dame  bare  wheaten  bread  and  set  it  by  them,  and  laid  on  the 
board  many  dainties,  giving  freely  of  such  things  as  she  had 
by  her.  And  the  son  of  Boethous  carved  by  the  board  and 
divided  the  messes,  and  the  son  of  renowned  Menelaus 
poured  forth  the  wine.  So  they  stretched  forth  their  hands 
upon  the  good  cheer  set  before  them.  Now  when  they  had 
put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and  drink,  then  did  Tele- 
machus  and  the  glorious  son  of  Nestor  yoke  the  horses  and 
climb  into  the  inlaid  car.  And  they  drave  forth  from  the 
gateway  and  the  echoing  corridor.  After  these  Menelaus,  of 
the  fair  hair,  the  son  of  Atreus,  went  forth  bearing  in  his 
right  hand  a  golden  cup  of  honey-hearted  wine,  that  they 


ODYSSEY  XV,  149-178.  a45 

might  pour  a  drink-offering  ere  they  departed.  And  he 
stood  before  the  horses  and  spake  his  greeting : 

'  Farewell,  knightly  youths,  and  salute  in  my  name  Nestor, 
the  shepherd  of  the  people ;  for  truly  he  was  gentle  to  me 
as  a  father,  while  we  sons  of  the  Achaeans  warred  in  the  land 
of  Troy.' 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying  :  *  Yea  verily, 
O  fosterling  of  Zeus,  we  will  tell  him  all  on  our  coming 
even  as  thou  sayest.  Would  God  I  were  so  sure  to  find 
Odysseus  in  his  home  when  I  return  to  Ithaca  and  to  tell 
him  how  I  have  met  with  all  manner  of  loving-kindness,  at 
thy  hands  ere  my  departure,  and  now  take  with  me  treasures 
many  and  goodly  1 ' 

And  even  as  he  spake  a  bird  flew  forth  at  his  right  hand, 
an  eagle  that  bare  in  his  claws  a  great  white  goose,  a  tame 
fowl  from  the  yard,  and  men  and  women  followed  shouting. 
But  the  bird  drew  near  them  and  flew  off  to  the  right,  across 
the  horses,  and  they  that  saw  it  were  glad,  and  their  hearts 
were  all  comforted  within  them.  And  Peisistratus,  son  of 
Nestor,  first  spake  among  them : 

*  Consider,  Menelaus,  fosterling  of  Zeus,  leader  of  the 
people,  whether  god  hath  showed  forth  this  sign  for  us  twain, 
or  for  thee  thyself.* 

So  spake  he,  and  the  warrior  Menelaus  pondered  thereupon, 
how  he  should  take  heed  to  answer,  and  interpret  it  aright. 

And  long-robed  Helen  took  the  word  and  spake,  saying : 
*  Hear  me,  and  I  will  prophesy  as  the  immortals  put  it  into 
my  heart,  and  as  I  deem  it  will  be  accomplished.  Even  as 
yonder  eagle  came  down  from  the  hill,  the  place  of  his  birth 
and  kin,  and  snatched  away  the  goose  that  was  fostered  in 
the  house,  even  so  shall  Odysseus  return  home  after  much  trial 
and  long  wanderings  and  take  vengeance;  yea,  or  even  now  is 
he  at  home  and  sowing  the  seeds  of  evil  for  all  the  wooers.' 


24<5  CDVSSEV  XV,  179-207. 

— — ^ —  »  \ 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  saying :  *  Now  may 
Zeus  ordain  it  so,  Zeus  the  thunderer  and  the  lord  of  Here. 
Then  would  I  do  thee  worship,  as  to  a  god,  even  in  my 
home  afar.' 

He  spake  and  smote  the  horses  with  the  lash,  and  they  sped 
quickly  towards  the  plain,  in  eager  course  through  the  city. 
So  all  day  long  they  swayed  the  yoke  they  bore  upon  their 
necks.  And  the  sun  sank,  and  all  the  ways  were  darkened. 
And  they  came  to  Pherae,  to  the  house  of  Diodes,  son  of 
Orsilochus,  the  child  begotten  of  Alpheus.  There  they 
rested  for  the  night,  and  by  them  he  set  the  entertainment 
of  strangers. 

Now  so  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
they  yoked  the  horses  and  mounted  the  inlaid  car.  And  forth 
they  drave  from  the  gateway  and  the  echoing  corridor.  And 
he  touched  the  horses  with  the  whip  to  start  them,  and  the 
pair  flew  onward  nothing  loth.  And  soon  thereafter  they 
reached  the  steep  hold  of  Pylos.  Then  Telemachus  spake 
unto  the  son  of  Nestor,  saying : 

*  Son  of  Nestor,  in  what  wise  mightest  thou  make  me  a 
promise  and  fulfil  my  bidding?  For  we  claim  to  be  friends 
by  reason  of  our  fathers'  friendship  from  of  old.  Moreover 
we  are  equals  in  age,  and  this  journey  shall  turn  to  our 
greater  love.  Take  me  not  hence  past  my  ship,  O  fosterling 
of  Zeus,  but  leave  me  there,  lest  that  old  man  keep  me  in 
his  house  in  my  despite,  out  of  his  eager  kindness,  for  I  must 
go  right  quickly  home.' 

So  spake  he,  and  the  son  of  Nestor  communed  with  his 
own  heart  how  he  might  make  promise,  and  duly  fulfil  the 
same.  So  as  he  thought  thereon,  in  this  wise  it  seemed 
to  him  best.  He  turned  back  his  horses  towird  the  swift 
ship  and  the  sea-banks,  and  took  forth  the  fail  gifts  and  set 
them  in  the  hinder  part  of  the  ship,  the  raiment  and  the  gold 


ODYSSEY  XV,  207-235.  247 

which  Menelaus  gave  him.     And  he  called  to  Telemachus 
and  spake  to  him  winged  words  : 

*  Now  climb  the  ship  with  all  haste,  and  bid  all  thy  com- 
pany do  likewise,  ere  I  reach  home  and  bring  the  old  man 
word.  For  well  I  know  in  my  mind  and  heart  that,  being  so 
wilful  of  heart,  he  will  not  let  thee  go,  but  he  himself  will 
come  hither  to  bid  thee  to  his  house,  and  methinks  that  he 
will  not  go  back  without  thee;  for  very  wroth  will  he  be 
despite  thine  excuse.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  drave  the  horses  with  the  flowing 
manes  back  to  the  town  of  the  Pylians,  and  came  quickly  to 
the  halls.  And  Telemachus  called  to  his  companions  and 
commanded  them,  saying : 

*  Set  ye  the  gear  in  order,  my  friends,  in  the  black 
.ship,  and  let  us  climb  aboard  that  we  may  make  way  upon 
our  course.' 

So  spake  he,  and  they  gave  good  heed  and  hearkened. 
Then  straightway  they  embarked  and  sat  upon  the  benches. 

Thus  was  he  busy  hereat  and  praying  and  making  burnt- 
offering  to  Athene,  by  the  stern  of  the  ship,  when  there 
drew  nigh  him  one  from  a  far  country,  that  had  slain  his 
man  and  was  fleeing  from  out  of  Argos.  He  was  a  sooth- 
sayer, and  by  his  lineage  he  came  of  Melampus  ^^,  who  of 
old  time  abode  in  Pylos,  mother  of  flocks,  a  rich  man  and 
one  that  had  an  exceeding  goodly  house  among  the  Pylians, 
but  aflerward  he  had  come  to  the  land  of  strangers,  fleeing 
from  his  country  and  from  Neleus,  the  great-hearted,  the 
proudest  of  living  men,  who  kept  all  his  goods  for  a  full  year 
by  force.  All  that  time  Melampus  lay  bound  with  hard  bonds 
in  the  halls  of  Phylacus,  suffering  strong  pains  for  the  sake  of 
the  daughter  of  Neleus,  and  for  the  dread  blindness  of  soul 
which  the  goddess,  the  Erinnys  of  the  dolorous  stroke,  had 
laid  on  him.     Howsoever  he  escaped  his  fate,  and  drave 


248  ODYSSEY  XV,  236-1.68. 

away  the  lowing  kine  from  Phylace  to  Pylos,  and  avenged 
t\ie  foul  deed  upon  godlike  Neleus,  and  brought  the  "maiden 
home  to  his  own  brother  to  wife.  As  for  him,  he  went  to 
a  country  of  other  men,  to  Argos,  the  pastureland  of  horses ; 
for  there  truly  it  was  ordained  that  he  should  dwell,  bearing 
rule  over  many  of  the  Argives.  There  he  wedded  a  wife,  and 
builded  him  a  lofty  house,  and  begat  Antiphates  and  Mantius, 
two  mighty  sons.  Now  Antiphates  begat  Oicles,  the  great- 
hearted, and  Oi'cles  Amphiaraus,  the  rouser  of  the  host,  whom 
Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis,  and  Apollo  loved  with  all  manner  of 
love.  Yet  he  reached  not  the  threshold  of  old  age,  but  died 
in  Thebes  by  reason  of  a  woman's  gifts.  And  the  sons  born 
to  him  were  Alcmaeon  and  Amphilochus.  But  Mantius 
begat  Polypheides  and  Cleitus  ;  but  it  came  to  pass  that  the 
golden-throned  Dawn  snatched  away  Cleitus  for  his  very 
beauty's  sake,  that  he  might  dwell  with  the  Immortals. 

And  Apollo  made  the  high-souled  Polypheides  a  seer,  far 
the  chief  of  human  kind,  Amphiaraus  being  now  dead.  He 
removed  his  dwelling  to  Hypheresia,  being  angered  with  his 
father,  and  here  he  abode  and  prophesied  to  all  men. 

This  man's  son  it  was,  Theoclymenus  by  name,  that  now 
drew  nigh  and  stood  by  Telemachus.  And  he  found  him 
pouring  a  drink-oifering  and  praying  by  the  swift  black  ship, 
and  uttering  his  voice  he  spake  to  him  winged  words : 

'  Friend,  since  I  find  thee  making  burnt^offering  in  this 
place,  I  pray  thee,  by  thine  offerings  and  by  the  god,  and 
thereafter  by  thine  own  head,  and  in  the  name  of  the  men 
of  thy  company  answer  my  question  truly  and  hide  it  not. 
Who  art  thou  of  the  sons  of  men  and  whence  ?  Where  is 
thy  city,  where  are  they  that  begat  thee  ? ' 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  '  Yea  now, 
stranger,  I  will  plainly  tell  iY  ee  all.  Of  Ithaca  am  I  by  lineage, 
and  my  father  is  Odysseus,  if  ever  such  an  one  there  was, 


ODYSSEY  XV,  268-398.  249 

but  now  hath  he  perished  by  an  evil  fate.  Wherefore  I  have 
taken  my  company  and  a  black  ship,  and  have  gone  forth  to 
hear  word  of  my  father  that  has  been  long  afar.' 

Then  godlike  Theoclymenus  spake  to  him  again :  *  Even 
so  I  too  have  fled  from  my  country,  for  the  manslaying  of 
one  of  mine  own  kin.  And  many  brethren  and  kinsmen  of 
the  slain  are  in  Argos,  the  pastureland  of  horses,  and  rule 
mightily  over  the  Achaeans.  Wherefore  now  am  I  an  exile 
to  shun  death  and  black  fate  at  their  hands,  for  it  is  my 
doom  yet  to  wander  among  men.  Now  set  me  on  board 
ship,  since  I  supplicate  thee  in  my  flight,  lest  they  slay  me 
utterly ;  for  methinks  they  follow  hard  after  me.' 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  '  Surely  I 
will  not  drive  thee  away  from  our  good  ship,  if  thou  art  fain 
to  come.  Follow  thou  with  us  then,  and  in  Ithaca  thou 
shalt  be  welcome  to  such  things  as  we  have* 

Therewith  he  took  from  him  his  spear  of  bronze,  and  laid 
it  along  the  deck  of  the  curved  ship,  and  himself  too  climbed 
the  seafaring  ship.  Then  he  sat  him  down  in  the  stern  and 
made  Theoclymenus  to  sit  beside  him ;  and  his  company 
loosed  the  hawsers.  Then  Telemachus  called  unto  his  com- 
pany, and  bade  them  lay  hands  on  the  tackling,  and  speedily 
they  hearkened  to  his  call.  So  they  raised  the  mast  of  pine 
tree,  and  set  it  in  the  hole  of  the  cross  plank  and  made  it 
fast  with  forestays,  and  hauled  up  the  white  sails  with  twisted 
ropes  of  ox-hide.  And  grey-eyed  Athene  sent  them  a 
favouring  breeze,  rushing  violently  through  the  clear  sky 
that  the  ship  might  speedily  finish  her  course  over  the  salt 
water  of  the  sea.  So  they  passed  by  Crouni  and  Chalcis,  a 
land  of  fair  streams. 

And  the  sun  set  and  all  the  ways  were  darkened.  And 
the  vessel  drew  nigh  to  Pheae,  being  sped  before  the  breeze 
of  Zeus,  and  then  passed  goodly  Elis  where  the  Epeans  bear 


250  onvssEv  XV,  299-330. 

rule.  From  thence  he  drave  on  again  to  the  Pointed  Isles, 
pondering  whether  he  should  escape  death  or  be  cut  off. 

Now  Odysseus  and  the  goodly  swineherd  were  supping  in 
the  hut,  and  the  other  men  sat  at  meat  with  them.  So 
when  they  had  put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and  drink, 
Odysseus  spake  among  them,  to  prove  the  swineherd,  whether 
he  would  still  entertain  him  diligently,  and  bid  him  abide 
there  in  the  steading  or  send  him  forward  to  the  city : 

*  Listen  now,  Eumaeus,  and  all  the  others  of  the  company. 
In  the  morning  I  would  fain  be  gone  to  the  town  to  go 
a  begging,  that  I  be  not  ruinous  to  thyself  and  thy  fel- 
lows. Now  advise  me  well,  and  lend  me  a  good  guide 
by  the  way  to  lead  me  thither;  and  through  the  city  will 
I  wander  alone  as  needs  I  must,  if  perchance  one  may  give 
me  a  cup  of  water  and  a  morsel  of  bread.  Moreover  I 
would  go  to  the  house  of  divine  Odysseus  and  bear  tidings 
to  the  wise  Penelope,  and  consort  with  the  wanton  wooers, 
if  haply  they  might  grant  me  a  meal  out  of  the  boundless 
store  that  they  have  by  them.  Lightly  might  I  do  good 
service  among  them,  even  all  that  they  would.  For  lo!  I 
will  tell  thee  and  do  thou  mark  and  listen.  By  the  favour 
of  Hermes,  the  messenger,  who  gives  grace  and  glory  to 
all  men's  work,  no  mortal  may  vie  with  me  in  the  business 
of  a  serving-man,  in  piling  well  a  fire,  in  cleaving  dry 
faggots,  and  in  carving  and  roasting  flesh  and  in  pouring 
of  wine,  those  offices  wherein  meaner  men  serve  their 
betters.' 

Then  didst  thou  speak  to  him  in  heaviness  of  heart,  swine- 
herd Eumaeus:  'Ah!  wherefore,  stranger,  hath  such  a  thought 
arisen  in  thine  heart?  Surely  thou  art  set  on  perishing 
utterly  there,  if  thou  wouldest  indeed  go  into  the  throng  of 
the  wooers,  whose  outrage  and  violence  reacheth  even  to  the 
iron  heaven  1    Not  such  as  thou  are  their  servants ;  they 


ODvssEv  xr,  331  365.  251 

that  minister  to  them  are  young  and  gaily  clad  in  mantles 
and  in  doublets,  and  their  heads  are  anointed  with  oil  and 
they  are  fair  of  face,  and  the  polished  boards  are  laden  with 
bread  and  flesh  and  wine.  Nay,  abide  here,  for  none  is  vexed 
by  thy  presence,  neither  I  nor  any  of  my  fellows  that  are 
with  me.  But  when  the  dear  son  of  Odysseus  comes,  he  him- 
self will  give  thee  a  mantle  and  a  doublet  for  raiment,  and  will 
send  thee  whithersoever  thy  heart  and  spirit  bid  thee  go.* 

Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  answered  him  :  '  Oh, 
that  thou  mayst  so  surely  be  dear  to  father  Zeus  as  thou  art 
to  me,  in  that  thou  didst  make  me  to  cease  from  wandering 
and  dread  woe!  For  there  is  no  other  thing  more  mis- 
chievous to  men  than  roaming ;  yet  for  their  cursed  belly's 
need  men  endure  sore  distress,  to  whom  come  wandering 
and  tribulation  and  pain.  But  behold  now,  since  thou  stayest 
me  here,  and  biddest  me  wait  his  coming,  tell  me  of  the 
mother  of  divine  Odysseus,  and  of  the  father  whom  at  his 
departure  he  left  behind  him  on  the  threshold  of  old  age; 
are  they,  it  may  be,  yet  alive  beneath  the  sunlight,  or  already 
dead  and  within  the  house  of  Hades  ? ' 

Then  spake  to  him  the  swineherd,  a  master  of  men:  'Yea 
now,  stranger,  I  will  plainly  tell  thee  all.  Laertes  yet  lives, 
and  prays  evermore  to  Zeus  that  his  life  may  waste  from  out 
his  limbs  within  his  halls.  For  he  has  wondrous  sorrow  for 
his  son  that  is  far  away,  and  for  the  gentle  lady  his  wise  wife, 
whose  death  afflicted  him  in  chief  and  brought  him  to  old  age 
before  his  day.  Now  she  died  of  very  grief  for  her  son  re- 
nowned, by  an  evil  death,  so  may  no  man  perish  who  dwells 
here  and  is  a  friend  to  me  in  word  and  deed  I  So  long  as 
she  was  on  earth,  though  in  much  sorrow,  I  was  glad  to  ask 
and  enquire  concerning  her,  for  that  she  herself  had  reared 
me  along  with  long-robed  Ctimene,  her  noble  daughter,  the 
youngest  of  her  children.     With  her  I  was  reared,  and  she 


25i  ODYSSEY  XV,  365-395. 

honoured  me  little  less  than  her  own.  But  when  we  both 
came  to  the  time  of  our  desire,  to  the  flower  of  age, 
thereupon  they  sent  her  to  Same,  and  got  a  great  bride- 
price;  but  my  lady  clad  me  in  a  mantle  and  a  doublet, 
raiment  very  fair,  and  gave  me  sandals  for  my  feet  and  sent 
me  forth  to  the  field,  and  still  she  loved  me  with  increasing 
love.  But  now  at  the  last  I  lack  all  this;  yet  the  blessed 
gods  prosper  the  work  of  mine  own  hands,  whereat  I  abide. 
Of  this  my  substance  I  have  eaten  and  drunken  and  given 
to  reverend  strangers.  But  from  my  lady  I  may  hear  nought 
pleasant,  neither  word  nor  deed,  for  evil  hath  fallen  on  my 
house,  a  plague  of  froward  men :  yet  thralls  have  a  great 
desire  to  speak  before  their  mistress  and  find  out  all  and 
eat  and  drink,  and  moreover  to  carry  off  somewhat  with 
them  to  the  field,  such  things  as  ever  comfort  the  heart 
of  a  thrall.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying : 

*  Ah,  Eumaeus,  how  far  then  didst  thou  wander  from  thine 
own  country  and  thy  parents  while  as  yet  thou  wast  but  a 
child !  But  come,  declare  me  this  and  plainly  tell  it  all.  Was 
a  wide-wayed  town  of  men  taken  and  sacked,  wherein  dwelt 
thy  father  and  thy  lady  mother,  or  did  unfriendly  men  find 
thee  lonely,  tending  sheep  or  cattle,  and  shipped  thee  thence, 
and  sold  thee  into  the  house  of  thy  master  here,  who  paid 
for  thee  a  goodly  price  ?  * 

Then  spake  to    him  the  swineherd,  a  master  of  men : 

*  Stranger,  since  thou  askest  and  queslionest  me  hereof,  give 
heed  now  in  silence  and  make  merry,  and  abide  here 
drinking  wine.  Lo,  the  nights  now  are  of  length  untold. 
Time  is  there  to  sleep,  and  time  to  listen  and  be  glad ;  thou 
needest  not  turn  to  bed  before  the  hour;  even  too  much 
sleep  is  vexation  of  spirit.  But  for  the  rest,  let  him 
whose  heart  and  mind  bid  him,  go  forth  and  slumber,  and. 


ODYSSEY  XV,  396-427.  *ir^'i, 

at  the  dawning  of  the  day  let  him  break  his  fast,  and  follow 
our  master's  swine.  But  let  us  twain  drink  and  feast  within 
the  steading,  and  each  in  his  neighbour's  sorrows  take  delight, 
recalling  them,  for  even  the  memory  of  griefs  is  a  joy  to  a 
man  who  hath  been  sore  tried  and  wandered  far.  Where- 
fore I  will  tell  thee  that  whereof  thou  askest  and  dost 
question  me. 

*  There  is  a  certain  isle  called  Syria,  if  haply  thou  hast 
heard  tell  of  it,  over  above  Ortygia,  and  there  are  the  turning- 
places  of  the  sun.  It  is  not  so  very  thickly  peopled,  but  the 
land  is  good,  rich  in  herds,  rich  in  flocks,  with  plenty  of  corn 
and  wine.  Dearth  never  enters  the  land,  and  no  hateful 
sickness  falls  on  wretched  mortals.  But  when  the  tribes  of 
men  grow  old  in  that  city,  then  comes  Apollo  of  the  silver 
bow,  with  Artemis,  and  slays  them  with  the  visitation  of  his 
gentle  shafts.  In  that  isle  are  two  cities,  and  the  whole  land 
is  divided  between  them,  and  my  father  was  king  over  the 
twain,  Ctesius  son  of  Ormenus,  a  man  like  to  the  Im- 
mortals. 

'Thither  came  the  Phoenicians,  mariners  renowned, 
'greedy  merchant  men,  with  countless  gauds  in  a  black 
ship.  Now  in  my  father's  house  was  a  Phoenician  woman, 
tall  and  fair  and  skilled  in  bright  handiwork;  this  woman 
the  Phoenicians  with  their  sleights  beguiled.  First  as  she 
was  washing  clothes,  one  of  them  lay  with  her  in  love  by 
the  hollow  ship,  for  love  beguiles  the  minds  of  womankind, 
even  of  the  upright.  Then  he  asked  her  who  she  was  and 
whence  she  came,  and  straightway  she  showed  him  of  the 
lofty  home  of  her  father,  saying: 

* "  From  out  of  Sidon  I  avow  that  I  come,  a  land  rich  in 
bronze,  and  I  am  the  daugher  of  Arybas,  the  deeply  wealthy. 
But  Taphians,  who  were  sea-robbers,  laid  hands  on  me  and 
snatched  me  away  as  I  came  in  from  the  fields,  and  brought 


254  ODYSSEY  XV,  428-458. 

me  hither  and  sold  me  into  the  house  of  my  master,  who 
paid  for  me  a  goodly  price." 

*  Then  the  man  who  had  lain  with  her  privily,  answered : 
"Say,  wouldst  thou  now  return  home  with  us,  that  thou 
may  St  look  again  on  the  lofty  house  of  thy  father  and 
mother  and  on  their  faces?  For  truly  they  yet  Uve,  and 
have  a  name  for  wealth." 

'Then  the  woman  answered  him  and  spake,  saying: 
"Even  this  may  well  be,  if  ye  sailors  will  pledge  me  an 
oath  to  bring  me  home  in  safety." 

*  So  spake  she,  and  they  all  swore  thereto  as  she  bade 
them.  Now  when  they  had  sworn  and  done  that'  oath, 
again  the  woman  spake  among  them  and  answered, 
saying : 

'  '*  Hold  your  peace  now,  and  let  none  of  your  fellows 
speak  to  me  and  greet  me,  if  they  meet  me  in  the  street, 
or  even  at  the  well,  lest  one  go  and  tell  it  to  the  old 
man  at  home,  and  he  suspect  somewhat  and  bind  me  in 
hard  bonds  and  devise  death  for  all  of  you.  But  keep  ye 
the  matter  in  mind,  and  -speed  the  purchase  of  your  home- 
ward freight.  And  when  your  ship  is  freighted  with  stores, 
let  a  message  come  quickly  to  me  at  the  house ;  for  I  will 
likewise  bring  gold,  all  that  comes  under  my  hand.  Yea 
and  there  is  another  thing  that  I  would  gladly  give  for  my 
fare.  I  am  nurse  to  the  child  of  my  lord  in  the  halls, 
a  most  cunning  little  boy,  that  runs  out  and  abroad  with 
me.  Him  would  I  bring  on  board  ship,  and  he  should  fetch 
you  a  great  price,  wheresoever  ye  take  him  for  sale  among 
men  of  strange  speech." 

'Therewith  she  went  her  way  to  the  fair  halls.  But 
they  abode  among  us  a  whole  year,  and  got  together  much 
wealth  in  their  hollow  ship.  And  when  their  hollow  ship  was 
now  laden  to  depart,  they  sent  a  messen<ier  to  tell  the  tidings 


ODYSSEY  XV,  458-490.  253 

to  the  woman.  There  came  a  man  versed  in  craft  to  my 
father's  house,  with  a  golden  chain  strung  here  and  there 
with  amber  beads.  Now  the  maidens  in  the  hall  and  my 
lady  mother  were  handling  the  chain  and  gazing  on  it,  and 
offering  him  their  price ;  but  he  had  signed  silently  to  the 
woman,  and  therewithal  gat  him  away  to  the  hollow  ship. 
Then  she  took  me  by  the  hand  and  led  me  forth  from  the 
house.  And  at  the  front  entry  of  the  house  she  found  the 
cups  and  the  tables  of  the  guests  that  had  been  feasting, 
who  were  in  waiting  on  my  father.  They  had  gone  forth 
to  the  session  and  the  place  of  parley  of  the  people.  And 
she  straightway  hid  three  goblets  in  her  bosom,  and  bare 
them  away,  and  I  followed  in  my  innocence.  Then  the  sun 
sank  and  all  the  ways  were  darkened.  And  we  went  quickly 
and  came  to  the  good  haven,  where  was  the  swift  ship  of  the 
Phoenicians.  So  they  climbed  on  board  and  took  us  up 
with  them,  and  sailed  over  the  wet  ways,  and  Zeus  sent  us 
a  favouring  wind.  For  six  days  we  sailed  by  day  and  night 
continually;  but  when  Zeus,  son  of  Cronos,  added  the  seventh 
day  thereto,  then  Artemis,  the  archer,  smote  the  woman 
that  she  fell,  as  a  sea-swallow  falls,  with  a  plunge  into  the 
hold.  And  they  cast  her  forth  to  be  the  prey  of  seals  and 
fishes,  but  I  was  left  stricken  at  heart.  And  wind  and 
water  bare  them  and  brought  them  to  Ithaca,  where  Laertes 
bought  me  with  his  possessions.  And  thus  it  chanced  that 
mine  eyes  beheld  this  land.' 

Then  Odysseus,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  answered  him 
saying : 

'Eumaeus,  verily  thou  hast  stirred  my  heart  within  me 
with  the  tale  of  all  these  things,  of  all  the  sorrow  of  liea:t 
thou  hast  endured.  Yet  surely  Zeus  hath  given  thee  good  as 
well  as  evil,  since  after  all  these  adventures  thou  hast  come 
to  the  house  of  a  kindly  man,  who  is  careful  to  give  thee 


25^  ODYSSEY  XV,  490-522. 

meat  and  drink  and  right  well  thou  livest.  But  I  have  come 
hither  still  wandering  through  the  many  towns  of  men/ 

Thus  they  spake  one  with  the  other.  Then  they  laid 
them  down  to  sleep  for  no  long  while,  but  for  a  little  space, 
for  soon  came  the  throned  Dawn.  But  on  the  shore  the 
company  of  Telemachus  were  striking  their  sails,  and  took 
down  the  mast  quickly  and  rowed  the  ship  on  to  anchorage. 
And  they  cast  anchors  and  made  fast  the  hawsers,  and 
themselves  too  stept  forth  upon  the  strand  of  the  sea,  and 
made  ready  the  midday  meal,  and  mixed  the  dark  wine. 
Now  when  they  had  put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and 
drink,  wise  Telemachus  first  spake  among  them : 

*  Do  ye  now  drive  the  black  ship  to  the  city,  while  I  will 
go  to  the  fields  and  to  the  herdsmen,  and  at  even  I  will 
return  to  the  city,  when  I  have  seen  my  lands.  And  in  the 
morning  I  will  set  by  you  the  wages  of  the  voyage,  a  good 
feast  of  flesh  and  of  sweet  wine.' 

Then  godlike  Theocly menus  answered  him :  'And  whither 
shall  I  go,  dear  child  ?  To  what  man's  house  shall  I  betake 
me,  of  such  as  are  lords  in  rocky  Ithaca  ?  Shall  I  get  me 
straight  to  thy  mother  and  to  thy  home  ? ' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying:  *In  other 
case  I  would  bid  thee  go  even  to  our  own  house ;  for  there 
is  no  lack  of  cheer  for  strangers,  but  now  would  it  be  worse 
for  thyself,  forasmuch  as  I  shall  be  away  nor  would  my 
mother  see  thee.  For  she  comes  not  often  in  sight  of  the 
wooers  in  the  house,  but  abides  apart  from  them  in  her 
upper  chamber,  and  weaves  at  her  web.  Yet  there 
is  one  whom  I  will  tell  thee  of,  to  whom  thou  mayst 
go,  Eurymachus  the  glorious  son  of  wise  Polybus,  whom 
now  the  men  of  Ithaca  look  on,  even  as  if  he  were  a  god. 
For  he  is  far  the  best  man  of  them  all,  and  is  most  eager 
to  wed  my  mother  and  to  have  the  sovereignty  of  Odysseus. 


ODYSSEY  XV,  523-552. 257 

Howbeit,  Olympian  Zeus,  that  dwells  in  the  clear  sky,  knows 
hereof,  whether  or  no  he  will  fulfil  for  them  the  evil  day 
before  their  marriage/ 

Now  even  as  he  spake,  a  bird  flew  out  on  the  right, 
a  hawk,  the  swift  messenger  of  Apollo.  In  his  talons  he 
held  a  dove  and  plucked  her,  and  shed  the  feathers  down  to 
the  earth,  midway  between  the  ship  and  Telemachus  himself. 
Then  Theoclymenus  called  him  apart  from  his  fellows,  and 
clasped  his  hand  and  spake  and  hailed  him : 

*  Telemachus,  surely  not  without  the  god's  will  hath  the 
bird  flown  out  on  the  right,  for  I  knew  when  I  saw  him  that 
he  was  a  bird  of  omen.  There  is  no  other  house  more 
iingly  than  yours  in  the  land  of  Ithaca;  nay,  ye  have  ever 
the  mastery.' 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  *  Ah, 
stranger,  would  that  this  word  may  be  accomplished !  Soon 
shouldest  thou  be  aware  of  kindness  and  many  a  gift  at  my 
hands,  so  that  whoso  met  with  thee  would  call  thee  blessed.' 

Then  he  spake  to  Piraeus,  his  trusty  companion :  '  Piraeus, 
son  of  Clytius,  thou  that  at  other  seasons  hearkenest  to  me 
above  all  my  company  who  went  with  me  to  Pylos,  even 
now,  I  pray,  lead  this  stranger  home  with  thee,  and  give 
heed  to  treat  him  lovingly  and  with  worship  in  thy  house  till 
I  come.' 

Then  Piraeus,  spearsman  renowned,  answered  him  saying : 
*  Telemachus,  though  thou  shouldest  tarry  here  a  long  while, 
yet  will  I  entertain  this  man,  and  he  shall  have  no  lack  of 
stranger's  cheer/ 

Therewith  he  went  on  board,  and  bade  his  men  themselves 
to  mount  and  loose  the  hawsers.  And  quickly  they  em- 
barked and  sat  upon  the  benches.  And  Telemachus  bound 
his  goodly  sandals  beneath  his  feet,  and  seized  a  mighty 
spear,  shod  with  sharp  bronze,  from  the  deck  of  the  ship 

s 


258  ODYSSEY  XV,  552-557. 

and  his  men  loosed  the  hawsers.  So  they  thrust  off  and 
sailed  to  the  city,  as  Telemachus  bade  them,  the  dear  son 
of  divine  Odysseus.  But  swiftly  his  feet  bore  him  on  his 
forward  way,  till  he  came  to  the  court,  where  were  his  swine 
out  of  number ;  and  among  them  the  good  swineherd  slept, 
a  man  loyal  to  his  lorda* 


BOOK    XVL 

Telemachus  sends  Eumaeus  to  the  city  to  tell  his  mother  of  his  return.  And 
how,  in  the  meantime,  Odysseus  discovers  himself  to  his  son. 

Now  these  twain,  Odysseus  and  the  goodly  swineherd, 
within  the  hut  had  kindled  a  fire,  and  were  making  ready 
breakfast  at  the  dawn,  and  had  sent  forth  the  herdsmen  with 
the  droves  of  swine.  And  round  Telemachus  the  hounds, 
that  love  to  bark,  fawned  and  barked  not,  as  he  drew  nigh. 
And  goodly  Odysseus  took  note  of  the  fawning  of  the  dogs, 
and  the  noise  of  footsteps  fell  upon  his  ears.  Then  straight 
he  spake  to  Eumaeus  winged  words : 

*  Eumaeus,  verily  some  friend  or  some  other  of  thy  familiars 
will  soon  be  here,  for  the  dogs  do  not  bark  but  fawn  around, 
and  I  catch  the  sound  of  footsteps.* 

While  the  word  was  yet  on  his  lips,  his  own  dear  son  stood 
at  the  entering  in  of  the  gate.  Then  the  swineherd  sprang 
up  in  amazement,  and  out  of  his  hands  fell  the  vessels  where- 
with he  was  busied  in  mingling  the  dark  wine.  And  he 
came  over  against  his  master  and  kissed  his  head  and  both 
his  beautiful  eyes  and  both  his  hands,  and  he  let  a  great  tear 
fall.  And  even  as  a  loving  father  welcomes  his  son  that  has 
come  in  the  tenth  year  from  a  far  country,  his  only  son  and 
well-beloved,  for  whose  sake  he  has  had  great  sorrow  and 
travail,  even  so  did  the  goodly  swineherd  fall  upon  the  neck 
of  godlike  Teleiiiachus,  and  kiss  him  all  over  as  one  escaped 
from  death,  and  he  wept  aloud  and  spake  to  him  winged 
words : 

*  Thou  art  come,  Telemachus,  sweet  light  of  mine  eyes ; 
methought  I  should  see  thee  never  again,  after  thou  hadst 
gone  in  thy  ship  to  Pylos.     Nay  now  enter,  dear  child,  that 

S    2 


26o  ODYSSEY  XVI,  25-54. 

my  heart  may  be  glad  at  the  sight  of  thee  in  mine  house, 
who  hast  newly  come  from  afar.  For  thou  dost  not  often 
visit  the  field  and  the  herdsmen,  but  abidest  in  the  town;  so 
it  seems  has  thy  good  pleasure  been,  to  look  on  the  ruinous 
throng  of  the  wooers.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  *  So  be  it, 
father,  as  thou  sayest ;  and  for  thy  sake  am  I  come  hither  to 
see  thee  with  mine  eyes,  and  to  hear  from  thy  lips  whether 
my  mother  yet  abides  in  the  halls  or  another  has  already 
wedded  her,  and  the  couch  of  Odysseus,  perchance,  lies  in 
lack  of  bedding  and  deep  in  foul  spider-webs.' 

Then  the  swineherd,  a  master  of  men,  answered  him: 
'  Yea  verily,  she  abides  with  patient  spirit  in  thy  halls,  and 
wearily  for  her  the  nights  wane  always  and  the  days,  in 
shedding  of  tears.' 

So  he  spake  and  took  from  him  the  spear  of  bronze. 
Then  Telemachus  passed  within  and  crossed  the  threshold 
of  stone.  As  he  came  near,  his  father  Odysseus  arose  from 
his  seat  to  give  him  place ;  but  Telemachus,  on  his  part, 
stayed  him  and  spake  saying  : 

'  Be  seated,  stranger,  and  we  will  find  a  seat  some  other 
where  in  our  steading,  and  there  is  a  man  here  to  set  it 
for  us.' 

So  he  spake,  and  Odysseus  went  back  and  sat  him  down 
again.  And  the  swineherd  strewed  for  Telemachus  green 
brushwood  below,  and  a  fleece  thereupon,  and  there  pre- 
sently the  dear  son  of  Odysseus  sat  him  down.  Next 
the  swineherd  set  by  them  platters  of  roast  flesh,  the  frag- 
ments that  were  left  from  the  meal  of  yesterday.  And 
wheaten  bread  he  briskly  heaped  up  in  baskets,  and  mixed 
the  honey-sweet  wine  in  a  goblet  of  ivy  wood,  and  himself 
sat  down  over  against  divine  Odysseus.  So  they  stretched 
forth   their  hands  upon   the  good  cheer  set  before  them. 


ODVSSEV  XVI,  55-^7.  26 


Now  when  they  had  put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and 
drink,  Telemachus  spake  to  the  goodly  swineherd,  saying : 

*  Father,  whence  came  this  stranger  to  thee  ?  How  did 
sailors  bring  him  to  Ithaca  ?  and  who  did  they  avow  them  to 
be  ?   For  in  no  wise,  I  deem,  did  he  come  hither  by  land.' 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  swineherd  Eumaeus  :  *  Yea 
now,  my  son,  I  will  plainly  tell  thee  all.  Of  wide  Crete  he 
avows  him  to  be  by  lineage,  and  he  says  that  round  many 
cities  of  mortals  he  has  wandered  at  adventure ;  even  so  has 
some  god  spun  for  him  the  thread  of  fate.  But  now,  as  a 
runaway  from  a  ship  of  the  Thesprotians,  has  he  come  to  my 
steading,  and  I  will  give  him  to  thee  for  thy  man ;  do  with 
him  as  thou  wilt ;  he  avows  him  for  thy  suppliant.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying  : '  Eumaeus, 
verily  a  bitter  word  is  this  that  thou  speakest.  How  indeed 
shall  I  receive  this  guest  in  my  house  ?  Myself  I  am  young, 
and  trust  not  yet  to  my  strength  of  hands  to  defend  me 
against  the  man  who  is  angered  without  a  cause.  And  my 
mother  has  divisions  of  heart,  whether  to  abide  here  with  me 
and  keep  the  house,  respecting  the  bed  of  her  lord  and  the 
voice  of  the  people,  or  straightway  to  go  with  whomsoever 
of  the  Achaeans  that  woo  her  in  the  halls  is  the  best  man, 
and  gives  most  bridal  gifts.  But  behold,  as  for  this  guest  of 
thine,  now  that  he  has  come  to  thy  house,  I  will  clothe  him 
in  a  mantle  and  a  doublet,  goodly  raiment,  and  I  will  give  him 
a  two-edged  sword,  and  shoes  for  his  feet,  and  send  him  on 
his  way,  whithersoever  his  heart  and  his  spirit  bid  him  go. 
Or,  if  thou  wilt,  hold  him  here  in  the  steading  and  take  care 
of  him,  and  raiment  I  will  send  hither,  and  all  manner  of 
food  to  eat,  that  he  be  not  ruinous  to  thee  and  to  thy  fellows. 
But  thither  into  the  company  of  the  wooers  would  I  not 
suffer  him  to  go,  for  they  are  exceeding  full  of  infatuate 
insolence,  lest  they  mock  at  him,  and  that  would  be  a  sore 


26%  ODYSSEY  XVJ,  87-I19. 

grief  to  me.  And  hard  it  is  for  one  man,  how  valiant  soever, 
to  achieve  aught  among  a  multitude,  for  verily  they  are  far 
the  stronger.* 

Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  answered  him :  '  My 
friend,  since  it  is  indeed  my  right  to  answer  thee  withal,  of  a 
truth  my  heart  is  rent  as  I  hear  your  words,  such  infatuate 
deeds  ye  say  the  wooers  devise  in  the  halls,  in  despite  of 
thee,  a  man  so  noble.  Say,  dost  thou  willingly  submit  thee 
to  oppression,  or  do  the  people  through  the  township  hate 
thee,  obedient  to  the  voice  of  a  god?  Or  hast  thou  cause  to 
blame  thy  brethren,  in  whose  battle  a  man  puts  trust,  even  if 
a  great  feud  arise?  Ah,  would  that  I  were  as  young  as  thou, 
and  in  this  my  mood,  and  that  I  were  either  the  son  of  noble 
Odysseus  or  Odysseus'  very  self*,  straightway  then  might 
a  stranger  sever  my  head  from  off  my  neck,  if  I  went  not  to 
the  halls  of  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes,  and  made  myself  the 
bane  of  every  man  among  them  !  But  if  they  should  over- 
come me  by  numbers,  being  but  one  man  against  so  many, 
far  rather  would  I  die  slain  in  mine  own  halls,  than  witness 
for  ever  these  unseemly  deeds,  strangers  shamefully  entreated, 
and  men  haling  the  Tiandmaidens  in  foul  wise  through  the  fair 
house,  and  wine  drawn  wastefully,  and  the  wooers  devouring 
food  all  recklessly  to  no  end,  over  a  purpose  that  may  never 
be  accomplished.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  '  Yea  now, 
stranger,  I  will  plainly  tell  thee  all.  There  is  no  grudge  and 
hatred  borne  me  by  the  whole  people,  neither  have  I  cause 
to  blame  my  brethren,  in  whose  battle  a  man  puts  trust,  even 
if  a  great  feud  arise.  For  thus,  as  thou  seest,  Cronion  has 
made  us  a  house  of  but  one  heir.  Arceisius  got  him  one 
only  son  Laertes,  and   one   only   son    Odysseus   was   be- 

*  We  omit  line  loi,  which  spoils  the  sense  of  the  passage,  and  was 
rejected  by  antiquity. 


ODYSSEY  XVI,   I19-150.  263 

gotten  of  his  father,  and  Odysseus  left  me  the  only  child  of 
his  getting  in  these  halls,  and  had  no  joy  of  me ;  wherefore 
now  are  foemen  innumerable  in  the  house.  For  all  the  no- 
blest that  are  princes  in  the  islands,  in  Dulichium  and  Same 
and  wooded  Zacynthus,  and  as  many  as  lord  it  in  rocky 
Ithaca,  all  these  woo  my  mother  and  waste  my  house.  But 
as  for  her  she  neither  refuseth  the  hated  bridal,  nor  hath  the 
heart  to  make  an  end ;  so  they  devour  and  minish  my  house ; 
and  ere  long  will  they  make  havoc  likewise  of  myself.  How- 
beit  these  things  surely  lie  on  the  knees  of  the  gods.  Nay, 
father,  but  do  thou  go  with  haste  and  tell  the  constant 
Penelope  that  she  hath  got  me  safe  and  that  I  am  come  up 
out  of  Pylos.  As  for  me,  I  will  tarry  here,  and  do  thou 
return  hither  when  thou  hast  told  the  tidings  to  her  alone ; 
but  of  the  other  Achaeans  let  no  man  learn  it,  for  there  be 
many  that  devise  mischief  against  me.' 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  swineherd  Eumaeus :  *  I 
mark,  I  heed,  all  this  thou  speakest  to  one  with  under- 
standing. But  come,  declare  me  this  and  tell  it  plainly; 
whether  or  no  I  shall  go  the  same  road  with  tidings  to 
Laertes,  that  hapless  man,  who  till  lately,  despite  his  great 
sorrow  for  Odysseus'  sake,  yet  had  oversight  of  the  tillage,  and 
did  eat  and  drink  with  the  thralls  in  his  house,  as  often  as  his 
heart  within  him  bade  him.  But  now,  from  the  day  that 
thou  wentest  in  thy  ship  to  Pylos,  never  to  this  hour,  they 
say,  hath  he  eaten  and  drunken  as  before,  nor  looked  to  the 
labours  of  the  field,  but  with  groaning  and  lamentation  he 
sits  sorrowing,  and  the  flesh  wastes  away  about  his  bones.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  *  All  the 
more  grievous  it  is !  yet  will  we  let  him  be,  though 
we  sorrow  thereat.  For  if  men  might  in  any  wise  have 
all  their  will  we  should  before  ought  else  choose  the  day 
of  my  father's  returning.     But  do   thou  when   thou  hast 


2^4  ODYSSEY  XVI,  150-180. 

told  the  tidings  come  straight  back,  and  go  not  wandering 
through  the  fields  after  Laertes.  But  speak  to  my  mother 
that  with  all  speed  she  send  forth  the  house-dame  her  hand- 
maid, secretly,  for  she  might  bear  tidings  to  the  old  man.' 

With  that  word  he  roused  the  swineherd,  who  took  his 
sandals  in  his  hands  and  bound  them  beneath  his  feet  and 
departed  for  the  city.  Now  Athene  noted  Eumaeus  the 
swineherd  pass  from  the  steading,  and  she  drew  nigh  in  the 
semblance  of  a  woman  fair  and  tall,  and  skilled  in  splendid 
handiwork.  And  she  stood  in  presence  manifest  to  Odysseus 
over  against  the  doorway  of  the  hut;  but  it  was  so  that 
Telemachus  saw  her  not  before  him  and  marked  her  not ; 
for  the  gods  in  no  wise  appear  visibly  to  all.  But  Odysseus 
was  ware  of  her  and  the  dogs  likewise,  which  barked  not, 
but  with  a  low  whine  shrank  cowering  to  the  far  side  of  the 
steading.  Then  she  nodded  at  him  with  bent  brows,  and 
goodly  Odysseus  perceived  it,  and  came  forth  from  the 
room,  past  the  great  wall  of  the  yard,  and  stood  before  her, 
and  Athene  spake  to  him,  saying : 

*  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  now  is  the  hour  to  reveal  thy  word  to  thy  son,  and 
hide  it  not,  that  ye  twain  having  framed  death  and  doom 
for  the  wooers,  may  fare  to  the  famous  town.  Nor  will  I, 
even  I,  be  long  away  from  you,  being  right  eager  for  battle.' 

Therewith  Athene  touched  him  with  her  golden  wand. 
First  she  cast  about  his  breast  a  fresh  linen  robe  and  a 
doublet,  and  she  increased  his  bulk  and  bloom.  Dark  his 
colour  grew  again,  and  his  cheeks  filled  out,  and  the  black 
beard  spread  thick  around  his  chin. 

Now  she,  when  she  had  so  wrought,  withdrew  again,  but 
Odysseus  went  into  the  hut,  and  his  dear  son  marvelled  at 
him  and  looked  away  for  very  fear  lest  it  should  be  a  god, 
and  he  uttered  his  voice  and  spake  to  him  winged  words : 


ODYSSEY  XVI,   181-210.  265 

*  Even  now,  stranger,  thou  art  other  in  my  sight  than  that 
thou  wert  a  moment  since,  and  other  garments  tnou  hast, 
and  the  colour  of  thy  skin  is  no  longer  the  same.  Surely 
thou  art  a  god  of  those  that  keep  the  wide  heaven.  Nay 
then,  be  gracious,  that  we  may  offer  to  thee  well-pleasing 
sacrifices  and  golden  gifts,  beautifully  wrought;  and  spare 
us  I  pray  thee/ 

Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  answered  him,  saying: 
*  Behold,  no  god  am  I ;  why  likenest  thou  me  to  the  im- 
mortals ?  nay,  thy  father  am  I,  for  whose  sake  thou  sufferest 
many  pains  and  groanest  sore,  and  submittest  thee  to  the 
despite  of  men/ 

At  the  word  he  kissed  his  son,  and  from  his  cheeks  let  a 
tear  fall  to  earth :  before,  he  had  stayed  the  tears  continually. 
But  Telemachus  (for  as  yet  he  believed  not  that  it  was  his 
father)  answered  in  turn  and  spake,  saying : 

'Thou  art  not  Odysseus  my  father,  but  some  god  be- 
guiles me,  that  I  may  groan  for  more  exceeding  sorrow. 
For  it  cannot  be  that  a  mortal  man  should  contrive  this  by 
the  aid  of  his  own  wit,  unless  a  god  were  himself  to  visit 
him,  and  lightly  of  his  own  will  to  make  him  young  or 
old.  For  truly,  but  a  moment  gone,  thou  wert  old  and 
foully  clad,  but  now  thou  art  like  the  gods  who  keep  the 
wide  heaven.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying : 

*  Telemachus,  it  fits  thee  not  to  marvel  overmuch  that  thyl 
father  is  come  home,  or  to  be  amazed.  Nay  for  thou  shalt  \ 
find  no  other  Odysseus  come  hither  any  more ;  but  lo,  I,  all    ' 

as  I  am,  after  sufferings  and  much  wandering  have  come  in      v/ 
the  twentieth  year  to  mine  own  country.     Behold,  this  is  the 
work  of  Athene,  driver  of  the  spoil,  who  makes  me  such 
manner  of  man  as  she  will, — for  with  her  it  is  possible, — now 
like  a  beggar,  and  now  again  like  a  young  man,  and  one 


266  ODYSSEY  XVI,  iJlo-34T. 

clad  about  in  rich  raiment.  Easy  it  is  for  the  gods  who 
keep  the  wide  heaven  to  glorify  or  to  abase  a  mortal  man/ 

With  this  word  then  he  sat  down  again  ;  but  Telemachus, 
flinging  himself  upon  his  noble  father's  neck,  mourned  and 
shed  tears,  and  in  both  their  hearts  arose  the  desire  of  lamen- 
tation. And  they  wailed  aloud,  more  ceaselessly  than  birds, 
sea-eagles  or  vultures  of  crooked  claws,  whose  younglings 
the  country  folk  have  taken  from  the  nest,  ere  yet  they 
are  fledged.  Even  so  pitifully  fell  the  tears  beneath  their 
brows.  And  now  would  the  sunlight  have  gone  down  upon 
their  sorrowing,  had  not  Telemachus  spoken  to  his  father 
suddenly : 

*  And  in  what  manner  of  ship,  father  dear,  did  sailors  at 
length  bring  thee  hither  to  Ithaca  ?  and  who  did  they  avow 
them  to  be  ?  For  in  no  wise,  I  deem,  didst  thou  come  hither 
by  land.' 

And  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  answered  him  :  '  Yea 
now,  my  child,  I  will  tell  thee  all  the  truth.  The  Phaeacians 
brought  me  hither,  mariners  renowned,  who  speed  other  men 
too  upon  their  way,  whosoever  comes  to  them.  Asleep  in 
the  swift  ship  they  bore  me  over  the  seas  and  set  me  down 
in  Ithaca,  and  gave  me  splendid  gifts,  bronze  and  gold  in 
plenty  and  woven  raiment.  And  these  treasures  are  lying  by 
the  gods'  grace  in  the  caves.  But  now  I  am  come  hither  by 
the  promptings  of  Athene,  that  we  may  take  counsel  for  the 
slaughter  of  the  foemen.  But  come,  tell  me  all  the  tale  of 
the  wooers  and  their  number,  that  I  may  know  how  many 
and  what  men  they  be,  and  that  so  I  may  commune  with  my 
good  heart  and  advise  me,  whether  we  twain  shall  be  able 
alone  to  make  head  against  them  without  aid,  or  whether  we 
should  even  seek  succour  of  others.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying:  'Verily, 
father,  I  have  ever  heard  of  thy  great  fame,  for  a  warrior 


ODYSSEY  XVI,   242-274.  267 

hardy  of  thy  hands,  and  sage  in  counsel.  But  this  is  a  hard 
saying  of  thine  :  awe  comes  over  me ;  for  it  may  not  be  that 
two  men  should  do  battle  with  many  men  and  stalwart.  For 
of  the  wooers  there  are  not  barely  ten  nor  twice  ten  only,  but 
many  a  decad  more :  and  straight  shalt  thou  learn  the  tale  of 
them  ere  we  part.  From  Dulichium  there  be  two  and  fifty 
chosen  lords,  and  six  serving  men  go  with  them ;  and  out  of 
Same  four  and  twenty  men ;  and  from  Zacynthus  there  are 
twenty  lords  of  the  Achaeans ;  and  from  Ithaca  itself  full 
twelve  men  of  the  best,  and  with  them  Medon  the  henchman, 
and  the  divine  minstrel,  and  two  squires  skilled  in  carving 
viands.  If  we  shall  encounter  all  these  within  the  halls,  see 
thou  to  it,  lest  bitter  and  baneful  for  us  be  the  vengeance 
thou  takest  on  their  violence  at  thy  coming.  But  do  thou,  if 
thou  canst  think  of  some  champion,  advise  thee  of  any  that 
may  help  us  with  all  his  heart.' 

Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  answered  him,  saying : 

*  Yea  now,  I  will  tell  thee,  and  do  thou  mark  and  listen 
to  me,  and  consider  whether  Athene  with  Father  Zeus  will 
suffice  for  us  twain,  or  whether  I  shall  cast  about  for  some 
other  champion,* 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying:  *  Verily  the 
best  of  champions  are  these  two  thou  namest,  though  high 
in  the  clouds  is  their  seat,  and  they  rule  among  all  men  and 
among  the  deathless  gods.' 

Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  answered  him :  *  Verily 
these  twain  will  not  keep  aloof  from  the  strong  tumult  of 
war,  when  between  the  wooers  and  us  in  my  halls  is  held 
the  trial  of  the  might  of  Ares.  But  as  now,  do  thou 
go  homeward  at  the  breaking  of  the  day,  and  consort  with 
the  proud  wooers.  As  for  me,  the  swineherd  will  lead  me 
to  the  town  later  in  the  day,  in  the  likeness  of  a  beggar, 
a  wretched  man  and  an  old.   And  if  they  shall  evil  entreat  me 


r 


268  ODYSSEY  XVI,  274-305. 

in  the  house,  let  thy  heart  harden  itself  to  endure  while  I  am 
shamefully  handled,  yea  even  if  they  drag  me.  by  the  feet 
through  the  house  to  the  doors,  or  cast  at  me  and  smite  me  : 
still  do  thou  bear  the  sight.  Howbeit  thou  shalt  surely  bid 
them  cease  from  their  folly,  exhorting  them  with  smooth 
words ;  yet  no  whit  will  they  hearken,  nay  for  the  day  of 
their  doom  is  at  hand.  Yet  another  thing  will  I  tell  thee, 
and  do  thou  ponder  it  in  thy  heart.  When  Athene,  of  deep 
counsel,  shall  put  it  into  my  heart,  I  will  nod  to  thee  with  my 
head  and  do  thou  note  it,  and  carry  away  all  thy  weapons  of 
war  that  lie  in  the  halls,  and  lay  them  down  every  one  in  the 
secret  place  of  the  lofty  chamber.  And  when  the  wooers 
miss  them  and  ask  thee  concerning  them,  thou  shalt  beguile 
them  with  soft  words,  saying : 

*  "Out  of  the  smoke  have  I  laid  them  by,  since  they  are  no 
longer  like  those  that  Odysseus  left  behind  him  of  old  when  he 
went  to  Troy,  but  they  are  wholly  marred :  so  mightily  hath 
passed  upon  them  the  vapour  of  fire.  Moreover  Cronion  hath 
put  into  my  heart  this  other  and  greater  care,  that  perchance, 
when  ye  are  heated  with  wine,  ye  set  a  quarrel  between 
you  and  wound  one  the  other  and  thereby  shame  the  feast 
and  the  wooing ;  for  iron  of  itself  draws  a  man  thereto." 
But  for  us  twain  alone  leave  two  swords  and  two  spears  and 
two  shields  of  oxhide  to  grasp,  that  we  may  rush  upon 
the  arms  and  seize  them;  and  then  shall  Pallas  Athene 
and  Zeus  the  counsellor  enchant  the  wooers  to  their  ruin. 
Yet  another  thing  will  I  tell  thee,  and  do  thou  ponder  it  in 
thy  heart.  If  in  very  truth  thou  art  my  son  and  of  our  blood, 
then  let  no  man  hear  that  Odysseus  is  come  home ;  neither 
let  Laertes  know  it,  nor  the  swineherd  nor  any  of  the  house- 
hold nor  Penelope  herself,  but  let  me  and  thee  alone  dis- 
cover the  intent  of  the  women.  Yea,  and  we  would  more- 
over make  trial  of  certain  of  the   men  among  the  thralls, 


ODYSSEY  XVI,  306-338.  269 

and  learn  who  *  of  them  chances  to  honour  us  and  to  fear  us 
heartily,  and  who  regards  us  not  at  all  and  holds  even  thee 
in  no  esteem,  so  noble  a  man  as  thou  art/ 

Then  his  renowned  son  answered  him,  and  said :  *  O  my 
father,  of  a  truth  thou  shalt  learn,  methinks,  even  hereafter 
what  spirit  I  am  of,  for  no  whit  doth  folly  possess  me.  But  I 
deem  not  that  this  device  of  thine  will  be  gainful  to  us  tv;ain, 
so  I  bid  thee  to  give  heed.  For  thou  shalt  be  long  time  on 
thy  road  to  litde  purpose,  making  trial  of  each  man,  while 
thou  visitest  the  farm  lands;  but  at  ease  in  thy  halls  the 
wooers  devour  thy  goods  with  insolence,  and  now  there  is  no 
sparing.  Howbeit  I  would  have  thee  take  knowledge  of  the 
women,  who  they  be  that  dishonour  thee,  and  who  are  guiltless. 
But  of  the  men  I  would  not  that  we  should  make  trial  in  the 
steadings,  but  that  we  should  see  to  this  task  afterwards,  if  in- 
deed thou  knowest  some  sign  from  Zeus,  lord  of  the  aegis.' 

Thus  they  spake  one  to  the  other.  And  now  the  well- 
builded  ship  was  being  brought  to  land  at  Ithaca,  the  ship 
that  bare  Telemachus  from  Pylos  with  all  his  company. 
When  they  were  now  come  within  the  deep  harbour,  the  men 
drew  up  the  black  ship  on  the  shore,  while  squires,  haughty 
of  heart,  bare  away  their  weapons,  and  straightway  carried  the 
glorious  gifts  to  the  house  of  Clytius.  Anon  they  sent  for- 
ward a  herald  to  the  house  of  Odysseus  to  bear  the  tidings 
to  prudent  Penelope,  namely,  how  Telemachus  was  in  the 
field,  and  had  bidden  the  ship  sail  to  the  city,  lest  the  noble 
queen  should  be  afraid,  and  let  the  round  tears  fall.  So 
these  two  met,  the  herald  and  the  goodly  swineherd,  come 
on  the  same  errand  to  tell  all  to  the  lady.  Now  when  they 
w«re  got  to  the  house  of  the  divine  king,  the  herald  spake 
out  among  all  the  handmaids  saying : 

*  Verily,  O  queen,  thy  son  hath  come  out  of  Pylos.* 
But  the  swineherd  went  up  to  Penelope,  and  told  her  all 
♦  Reading  0  nov  ra. 


270  ODYSSEY  XVI,  ^iZ^-Z^l' 

that  her  dear  son  had  bidden  him  say.  So,  when  he  had 
declared  all  that  had  been  enjoined  him,  he  went  on  his- way 
to  the  swine  and  left  the  enclosure  and  the  hall. 

Now  the  wooers  were  troubled  and  downcast  in  spirit, 
and  forth  they  went  from  the  hall  past  the  great  wall  of  the 
court,  and  there  in  front  of  the  gates  they  sat  them  down. 
And  Eurymachus  son  of  Polybus  first  spake  among  them 
saying : 

*  Verily,  friends,  a  proud  deed  hath  Telemachus  accom- 
plished with  a  high  hand,  even  this  journey,  and  we  said  that 
he  should  never  bring  it  to  pass.  But  come,  launch  we  a 
black  ship,  the  best  there  is,  and  let  us  get  together  oarsmen 
of  the  sea,  who  shall  straightway  bear  word  to  our  friends  to 
return  home  with  speed/ 

The  word  was  yet  on  his  lips,  when  Amphinomus  turned 
in  his  place  and  saw  the  ship  within  the  deep  harbour,  and 
the  men  lowering  the  sails  and  with  the  oars  in  their  hands. 
Then  sweetly  he  laughed  out  and  spake  among  his  fellows: 

*  Nay,  let  us  now  send  no  message  any  more,  for  lo,  they 
are  come  home.  Either  some  god  has  told  them  all  or  they 
themselves  have  seen  the  ship  of  Telemachus  go  by,  and 
have  not  been  able  to  catch  her.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  they  arose  and  went  to  the  sea- 
banks.  Swiftly  the  men  drew  up  the  black  ship  on  the 
shore,  and  squires,  haughty  of  heart,  bare  away  their 
weapons.  And  the  wooers  all  together  went  to  the  as- 
sembly-place, and  suffered  none  other  to  sit  with  them, 
either  of  the  young  men  or  of  the  elders.  Then  Antinous 
spake  among  them,  the  son  of  Eupeilhes  : 

*  Lo  now,  how  the  gods  have  delivered  this  man  from  his 
evil  case !  All  day  long  did  scouts  sit  along  the  windy  head- 
lands, ever  in  quick  succession,  and  at  the  going  down  of 
the  sun  we  never  rested  for  a  night  upon  the  shore,  but 


ODYSSEY  XVT,  358-398.  271 

sailing  with  our  swift  ship  on  the  high  seas  we  awaited  the 
bright  Dawn,  as  we  lay  in  wait  for  Telemachus,  that  we 
might  take  and  slay  the  man  himself;  but  meanwhile  some 
god  has  brought  him  home.  But  even  here  let  us  devise  an 
evil  end  for  him,  even  for  Telemachus,  and  let  him  not 
escape  out  of  our  hands,  for  methinks  that  while  he  lives  we 
shall  never  achieve  this  task  of  ours.  For  he  himself  has 
understanding  in  counsel  and  wisdom,  and  the  people  no 
longer  show  us  favour  in  all  things.  Nay  come,  before  he 
assembles  all  the  Achaeans  to  the  gathering ;  for  methinks 
that  he  will  in  nowise  be  slack,  but  will  be  exceeding  wroth, 
and  will  stand  up  and  speak  out  among  them  all,  and  tell 
how  we  plotted  against  him  sheer  destruction  but  did  not 
overtake  him.  Then  will  they  not  approve  us,  when  they 
hear  these  evil  deeds.  Beware  then  lest  they  do  us  a  harm, 
and  drive  us  forth  from  our  country,  and  we  come  to  the 
land  of  strangers.  Nay,  but  let  us  be  beforehand  and  take 
him  in  the  field  far  from  the  city,  or  by  the  way ;  and  let  us 
ourselves  keep  his  livelihood  and  his  possessions,  making 
fair  division  among  us,  but  the  house  we  would  give  to  his 
mother  to  keep  and  to  whomsoever  marries  her.  But  if  this 
saying  likes  you  not,  but  ye  chose  rather  that  he  should  live 
and  keep  the  heritage  of  his  father,  no  longer  then  let  us 
gather  here  and  eat  all  his  store  of  pleasant  substance,  but 
let  each  one  from  his  own  hall  woo  her  with  his  bridal  gifts 
and  seek  to  win  her ;  so  should  she  wed  the  man  that  gives 
the  most  and  comes  as  the  chosen  of  fate.' 

So  he  spake,  and  they  all  held  their  peace.  Then  Amphi- 
nomus  made  harangue  and  spake  out  among  them ;  he  was 
the  famous  son  of  Nisus  the  prince,  the  son  of  Aretias,  and 
he  led  the  wooers  that  came  from  out  Dulichium,  a  land  rich 
in  wheat  and  in  grass,  and  more  than  all  the  rest  his  words 
were  pleasing  to  Penelope,  for  he  was  of  an  understanding 


^ 


273  ODYSSEY  XVI,  399-43O. 

mind.  And  now  of  his  good  will  he  made  harangue,  and 
spake  among  them : 

'Friends,  I  for  one  would  not  choose  to  kill  Telemachus;  it 
is  a  fearful  thing  to  slay  one  of  the  stock  of  kings !  Nay,  first  let 
us  seek  to  the  counsel  of  the  gods,  and  if  the  oracles  of  great 
Zeus  approve,  myself  I  will  slay  him  and  bid  all  the  rest  to  aid. 
But  if  the  gods  are  disposed  to  avert  it,  I  bid  you  to  refrain.* 

So  spake  Amphinomus,  and  his  saying  pleased  them  well. 
Then  straightway  they  arose  and  went  to  the  house  of 
Odysseus,  and  entering  in  sat  down  on  the  polished  seats. 

Then  the  wise  Penelope  had  a  new  thought,  namely,  to 
show  herself  to  the  wooers,  so  despiteful  in  their  insolence ; 
for  she  had  heard  of  the  death  of  her  son  that  was  to  be  in 
the  halls,  seeing  that  Medon  the  henchman  had  told  her  of 
it,  who  heard  their  counsels.  So  she  went  on  her  way  to  the 
hall,  with  the  women  her  handmaids.  Now  when  that  fair  lady 
had  come  unto  the  wooers,  she  stood  by  the  doorpost  of  the 
well-builded  roof,  holding  up  her  glistening  tire  before  her 
face,  and  rebuked  Antinous  and  spake  and  hailed  him  : 

'Antinous,  full  of  all  insolence,  deviser  of  mischief!  and 
yet  they  say  that  in  the  land  of  Ithaca  thou  art  chiefest 
among  thy  peers  in  counsel  and  in  speech.  Nay,  no  such 
man  dost  thou  show  thyself.  Fool !  why  indeed  dost  thou 
contrive  death  and  doom  for  Telemachus,  and  hast  no  regard 
unto  suppliants  who  have  Zeus  to  witness  ?  Nay  but  it  is  an 
impious  thing  to  contrive  evil  one  against  another.  What  I 
knowest  thou  not  of  the  day  when  thy  father  fled  to  this  house 
in  fear  of  the  people,  for  verily  they  were  exceeding  wroth 
against  him,  because  he  had  followed  with  Taphian  sea  rob- 
bers and  harried  the  Thesprotians,  who  were  at  peace  with  us  ? 
So  they  wished  to  destroy  thy  father  and  wrest  from  him  his 
dear  life,  and  utterly  to  devour  all  his  great  and  abundant 
livelihood ;  but  Odysseus  stayed  and  withheld  them,  for  alj 


ODYSSEY  XVI,  431-461.  273 

their  desire.  His  house  thou  now  consumest  without  atone- 
ment, and  his  wife  thou  wooest,  and  wouldst  slay  his  son, 
and  dost  greatly  grieve  me.  But  I  bid  thee  cease,  and  com- 
mand the  others  to  do  likewise.' 

Then  Eurymachus,  son  of  Polybus,  apswered  her  saying : 
'  Daughter  of  Icarius,  wise  Penelope,  take  courage,  and  let 
not  thy  heart  be  careful  for  these  things.  The  man  is 
not,  nor  shall  be,  nor  ever  shall  be  born,  that  shall  stretch 
forth  his  hands  against  Telemachus,  thy  son,  while  I  live 
and  am  on  earth  and  see  the  light.  For  thus  will  I  declare 
to  thee,  and  it  shall  surely  come  to  pass.  Right  quickly 
shall  the  black  blood  of  such  an  one  flow  about  my  spear ; 
for  Odysseus,  waster  of  cities,  of  a  truth  did  many  a  time 
set  me  too  upon  his  knees,  and  gave  me  roasted  flesh 
into  my  hand,  and  held  the  red  wine  to  my  lips.  Where- 
fore Telemachus  is  far  the  dearest  of  all  men  to  me,  and 
I  bid  him  have  no  fear  of  death,  not  from  the  wooers' 
hands;    but  from  the  gods  none  may  avoid  it.' 

Thus  he  spake  comforting  her,  but  was  himself  the  while 
framing  death  for  her  son. 

Now  she  ascended  to  her  shining  upper  chamber,  and 
then  was  bewailing  Odysseus,  her  dear  lord,  till  grey-eyed 
Athene  cast  sweet  sleep  upon  her  eyelids. 

And  in  the  evening  the  goodly  swineherd  came  back  to 
Odysseus  and  his  son,  and  they  went  about  to  make  ready 
the  supper,  when  they  had  sacrificed  a  swine  of  a  year  old. 
Then  Athene  drew  near  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes,  and  smote 
him  with  her  wand,  and  made  him  into  an  old  man  again. 
In  sorry  raiment  she  clad  him  about  his  body,  lest  the  swine- 
herd should  look  on  him  and  know  him,  and  depart  to  tell 
the  constant  Penelope,  and  not  keep  the  matter  in  his  heart. 

Then  Telemachus  spake  first  to  the  swineherd,  saying  : 
'Thou  hast  come,  goodly  Eumaeus.     Whal;  news  is  there 

T 


274  ODVSSEV  XVI,  462-481. 

in  the  town  ?  Are  the  lordly  wooers  now  come  home  from 
their  ambush,  or  do  they  still  watch  for  me  yonder,  to  take 
me  on  my  way  home  ? ' 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  swineherd  Eumaeus : 
*I  had  no  mind  to  go  about  the  city  asking  and  in- 
quiring hereof;  my  heart  bade  me  get  me  home  again,  as 
quick  as  might  be,  when  once  I  had  told  the  tidings.  And 
the  swift  messenger  from  thy  company  joined  himself  unto 
me,  the  henchman,  who  was  the  first  to  tell  the  news  to  thy 
mother.  Yet  this,  too,  I  know,  if  thou  wouldest  hear ;  for  I 
beheld  it  with  mine  eyes.  Already  had  I  come  in  my  faring 
above  the  city,  where  is  the  hill  Hermaean,  when  I  marked  a 
swift  s\iip  entering  our  haven,  and  many  men  there  were  in 
her,  and  she  was  laden  with  shields  and  two-headed  spears, 
and  methought  they  were  the  wooers,  but  I  know  not  at  all.' 

So  spake  he,  and  the  mighty  prince  Telemachus  smiled, 
and  glanced  at  his  father,  while  he  shunned  the  eye  of  the 
swineherd. 

Now  when  they  had  ceased  from  the  work  and  got  supper 
ready,  they  fell  to  feasting,  and  their  hearts  lacked  not  ought 
of  the  equal  banquet.  But  when  they  had  put  from  them 
the  desire  of  meat  and  drink,  they  bethought  them  of  rest, 
and  took  the  boon  of  sleep. 


BOOK  XVII. 

Tdemachas  relates  to  his  mother  what  he  had  heard  at  Pylos  and 

Sparta. 

So  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
then  Telemachus,  the  dear  son  of  divine  Odysseus,  bound 
beneath  his  feet  his  goodly  sandals,  and  took  up  his  mighty  ^ 
spear  that  fitted  his  grasp,  to  make  for  the  city;  and  he 
spake  to  his  swineherd,  saying : 

*  Verily,  father,  I  am  bound  for  the  city,  that  my  mother 
may  see  me,  for  methinks  that  she  will  not  cease  from  griev- 
ous wailing  and  tearful  lament,  until  she  beholds  my  very 
face.  But  this  command  I  give  thee:  Lead  this  stranger, 
the  hapless  one,  to  the  city,  that  there  he  may  beg  his  meat, 
and  whoso  chooses  will  give  him  a  morsel  of  bread  and  a  cup 
of  water.  As  for  myself,  I  can  in  no  wise  suffer  every  guest 
who  comes  to  me,  so  afflicted  am  I  in  spirit.  But  if  the 
stranger  be  sore  angered  hereat,  the  more  grievous  will  it  be 
for  himself;  howbeit  I  for  one  love  to  speak  the  truth.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying  :  '  I 
too,  my  friend,  have  no  great  desire  to  be  left  behind  here. 
It  is  better  that  a  beggar  should  beg  his  meat  in  the  town  than 
in  the  fields,  and  whoso  chooses  will  give  it  me.  For  I  am 
not  now  of  an  age  to  abide  at  the  steading,  and  to  obey  in 
all  things  the  word  of  the  master.  Nay  go,  and  this  man  that 
thou  biddest  will  lead  me,  so  soon  as  I  shall  be  warmed  with 
the  fire,  and  the  sun  waxes  hot.  For  woefully  poor  are  these 
garments  of  mine,  and  I  fear  lest  the  hoar  frost  of  the  dawn 
overcome  me ;  moreover  ye  say  the  city  is  far  away/ 

T    2 


275  ODYSSEY  XVII,  26-57. 

So  he  spake,  and  Telemachus  passed  out  through  ihe 
steading,  stepping  forth  at  a  quick  pace,  and  was  sowing  the 
seeds  of  evil  for  the  wooers.  Now  when  he  was  come  to  the 
fair-lying  house,  he  set  his  spear  against  the  tall  pillar  and 
leaned  it  there,  and  himself  went  in  and  crossed  the  threshold 
of  stone. 

And  the  nurse  Eurycleia  saw  him  far  before  the  rest,  as 
she  was  strewing  skin  coverlets  upon  the  carven  chairs,  and 
straightway  she  drew  near  him,  weeping,  and  all  the  other 
maidens  of  Odysseus,  of  the  hardy  heart,  were  gathered  about 
him,  and  kissed  him  lovingly  on  the  head  and  shoulders.  Now 
wise  Penelope  came  forth  from  her  chamber,  like  Artemis  or 
golden  Aphrodite,  and  cast  her  arms  about  her  dear  son,  and 
fell  a  weeping,  and  kissed  his  face  and  both  his  beautiful  eyes, 
and  wept  aloud,  and  spake  to  him  winged  words  : 

*  Thou  art  come,  Telemachus,  sweet  light  of  mine  eyes  ; 
methought  I  should  see  thee  never  again,  after  thou  hadst 
gone  in  thy  ship  to  Pylos,  secretly  and  without  my  will,  to 
seek  tidings  of  thy  dear  father.  Come  now,  tell  me,  what 
sight  thou  didst  get  of  him?' 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  saying :  *  Mother 
mine,  wake  not  wailing  in  my  soul,  nor  stir  the  heart  within  the 
breast  of  me,  that  have  but  now  fled  from  utter  death.  Nay, 
but  wash  thee  in  water,  and  take  to  thee  fresh  raiment,  and 
go  aloft  to  thine  upper  chamber  with  the  women  thy  hand- 
maids, and  vow  to  all  the  gods  an  acceptable  sacrifice  of 
hecatombs,  if  haply  Zeus  may  grant  that  deeds  of  requital  be 
made.  But  I  will  go  to  the  assembly-place  to  bid  a  stranger 
to  our  house,  one  that  accompanied  me  as  I  came  hither 
from  Pylos.  I  sent  him  forward  with  my  godlike  company, 
and  commanded  Piraeus  to  lead  him  home,  and  to  take  heed 
to  treat  him  lovingly  and  with  worship  till  I  should  come.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  his  word  unwinged^  abode  with  her. 


ODVSSEV  XVll,  58-90.  277 

And  she  washed  her  in  water,  and  took  to  her  fresh  raiment, 
and  vowed  to  all  the  gods  an  acceptable  sacrifice  of  heca- 
tombs, if  haply  Zeus  might  grant  that  deeds  of  requital 
should  be  made. 

Now  Telemachus  went  out  through  the  hall  with  the  spear 
in  his  hand:  and  two  swift  hounds  bare  him  company. 
And  Athene  shed  on  him  a  wondrous  grace,  and  all  the 
people  marvelled  at  him  as  he  came.  And  the  lordly  wooers 
gathered  about  him  with  fair  words  on  their  lips,  but 
brooding  evil  in  the  deep  of  their  heart.  Then  he  avoided 
the  great  press  of  the  wooers,  but  where  Mentor  sat,  and 
Antiphus,  and  Halitherses,  who  were  friends  of  his  house 
from  of  old,  there  he  went  and  sat  down ;  and  they  asked 
him  of  all  his  adventures.  Then  Piraeus,  the  famed  spears- 
man,  drew  nigh,  leading  the  stranger  to  the  assembly-place 
by  the  way  of  the  town;  and  Telemachus  kept  not  aloof 
from  him  long,  but  went  up  to  him. 

Then  Piraeus  first  spake  to  him,  saying :  *  Bestir  the 
women  straightway  to  go  to  my  house,  that  I  may  send 
thee  the  gifts  that  Menelaus  gave  thee.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  *  Piraeus, 
we  know  not  how  these  matters  will  fall  out.  If  the  lordly 
wooers  shall  slay  me  by  guile  in  the  halls,  and  divide  among 
them  the  heritage  of  my  father,  then  I  should  wish  thee  to  keep 
and  enjoy  the  gifts  thyself,  rather  than  any  of  these.  But  if  I 
shall  sow  the  seeds  of  death  and  fate  for  the  wooers,  then 
gladly  bring  me  to  the  house  the  gifts  that  I  will  gladly  take.' 

Therewith  he  led  the  travel-worn  stranger  to  the  house. 
Now  when  they  came  to  the  fair-lying  palace,  they  laid  aside 
their  mantles  on  the  chairs  and  high  seats,  and  went  to  the 
polished  baths,  and  bathed  them.  So  when  the  maidens 
had  bathed  them  and  anointed  them  with  olive  oil,  and  cast 
about  them  thick  mantles  and  doublets,  they  came  forth  from 


27^  ODYSSEY  XVII,  90-13I. 

the  baths,  and  sat  upon  the  seats.  Then  the  handmaid  bare 
water  for  the  hands  in  a  goodly  golden  ewer,  and  poured  it 
forth  over  a  silver  basin  to  wash  wilhal,  and  drew  to  their  side 
a  polished  table.  And  the  grave  dame  bare  wheaten  bread, 
and  set  it  by  them,  and  laid  on  the  board  many  dainties, 
giving  freely  of  such  things  as  she  had  by  her.  And  the 
mother  of  Telemachus  sat  over  against  him  by  the  door- 
post of  the  hall,  leaning  against  a  chair,  and  spinning  the 
slender  threads  from  the  yarn.  And  they  stretched  forth 
their  hands  upon  the  good  cheer  set  before  them.  Now 
when  they  had  put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and  drink, 
the  wise  Penelope  first  spake  among  them : 

*  Telemachus,  verily  I  will  go  up  to  my  upper  chamber, 
and  lay  me  in  my  bed,  the  place  of  my  groanings,  that  is 
ever  watered  by  my  tears,  since  the  day  that  Odysseus 
departed  with  the  sons  of  Alreus  for  Ilios.  Yet  thou  hadst 
no  care  to  tell  me  clearly,  before  the  lordly  wooers  came  to 
this  house,  concerning  the  returning  of  thy  father,  if  haply 
thou  hast  heard  thereof.' 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  saying :  *  Yea  now, 
mother,  I  will  tell  thee  all  the  truth.  We  went  to  Pylos  and 
to  Nestor,  the  shepherd  of  the  people,  and  he  received  me 
in  his  lofty  house,  and  was  diligent  to  entreat  me  lovingly,  as 
a  father  might  his  son  that  had  but  newly  come  from  strange 
lands  after  many  years ;  even  so  diligently  he  cared  for  me 
with  his  renowned  sons.  Yet  he  said  that  he  had  heard  no 
word  from  any  man  on  earth  concerning  Odysseus,  of  the  hardy 
heart,  whether  alive  or  dead.  But  he  sent  me  forward  on  my 
way  with  horses  and  a  chariot,  well  compact,  to  Menelaus, 
son  of  Atreus,  spearman  renowned.  There  I  saw  Argive 
Helen,  for  whose  sake  the  Argives  and  Trojans  bore  much 
travail  by  the  gods'  designs.  Then  straightway  Menelaus, 
of  the  loud  war-cry,  asked  me  on  what  qu(ist  I  had  come  to 


ODYSSEY  XVII,  1 21-154.  279 

goodly  Lacedaemon.     And  I  told  him  all  the  truth.     Then 
he  made  answer,  and  spake,  saying  : 

* "  Out  upon  them,  for  truly  in  the  bed  of  a  brave-hearted 
man  were  they  minded  to  lie,  very  cravens  as  they  are  I  Even 
as  when  a  hind  hath  couched  her  newborn  fawns  unweaned 
in  a  strong  lion's  lair,  and  searcheth  out  the  mountain-knees 
and  grassy  hollows,  seeking  pasture ;  and  afterward  the  lion 
cometh  back  to  his  bed,  and  sendeth  forth  unsightly  death 
upon  that  pair,  even  so  shall  Odysseus  send  forth  unsightly 
death  upon  the  wooers.  Would  to  our  father  Zeus,  and 
Athene,  and  Apollo,  would  that  in  such  might  as  when  of  old 
in  stablished  Lesbos  he  rose  up  and  wresded  a  match  with 
Philomeleides,  and  threw  him  mightily,  and  all  the  Achaeans 
rejoiced;  would  that  in  such  strength  Odysseus  might  con- 
sort with  the  wooers ;  then  should  they  all  have  swift  fate  and 
bitter  wedlock !  But  for  that  whereof  thou  askest  and  en- 
treatest  me,  be  sure  I  will  not  swerve  from  the  truth  in  aught 
that  I  say,  nor  deceive  thee ;  but  of  all  that  the  ancient  one~^ 
of  the  sea,  whose  speech  is  sooth,  declared  to  me,  not  a  word  ^ 
will  I  hide  or  keep  from  thee.  He  said  that  he  saw  Odysseus  ■ 
in  an  island,  suffering  strong  pains  in  the  halls  of  the  nymph  ' 
Calypso,  who  holds  him  there  perforce ;  so  that  he  may  not 
come  to  his  own  country,  for  he  has  by  him  no  ships  with 
oars,  and  no  companions  to  send  him  on  his  way  over  the 
broad  back  of  the  sea."  So  spake  Menelaus,  son  of  Atreus, 
spearsman  renowned.  Then  having  fulfilled  all,  I  set  out 
for  home,  and  the  deathless  gods  gave  me  a  fair  wind,,  and 
brought  me  swiftly  to  mine  own  dear  country.' 

So  he  spake,  and  stirred  her  heart  within  her  breast.  And 
next  the  godlike  Theoclymenus  spake  among  them : 

*0  wife  revered  of  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes,  verily  he 
hath  no  clear  knowledge ;  but  my  word  do  thou  mark,  for  I 
will  prophesy  to  thee  most  truly  and  hide  nought.     Now 


28o  ODYSSEY  XVII,  1 55-186. 

Zeus  be  witness  before  any  god,  and  this  hospitable  board 
and  this  hearth  of  noble  Odysseus,  whereunto  I  am  come, 
that  Odysseus  is  even  now  of  a  surety  in  his  own  country, 
resting  or  faring,  learning  of  these  evil  deeds,  and  sowing 
the  seeds  of  evil  for  all  the  wooers.  So  clear  was  the  omen 
of  the  bird  that  I  saw  as  I  sat  on  the  decked  ship,  and  I 
proclaimed  it  to  Telemachus/ 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him,  saying :  *  Ah,  stranger, 
would  that  this  thy  word  may  be  accomplished  !  Soon 
shouldest  thou  be  aware  of  kindness  and  of  many  a  gift  at  my 
hands,  so  that  whoso  met  with  thee  would  call  thee  blessed.' 

Thus  they  spake  one  to  the  other.  But  the  wooers  mean- 
time were  before  the  palace  of  Odysseus,  taking  their  pleasure 
in  casting  of  weights  and  of  spears  on  a  levelled  place,  as 
heretofore,  in  their  insolence.  But  when  it  was  now  the 
hour  for  supper,  and  the  sheep  came  home  from  the  fields  all 
around,  and  the  men  led  them  whose  custom  it  was,  then 
Medon,  who  of  all  the  henchmen  was  most  to  their  mind,  and 
was  ever  with  them  at  the  feast,  spake  to  them,  saying : 

*  Noble  youths,  now  that  ye  have  had  sport  to  your  hearts' 
content,  get  you  into  the  house,  that  we  may  make  ready  a 
feast ;  for  truly  it  is  no  bad  thing  to  take  meat  in  season.' 

Even  so  he  spake,  and  they  rose  up  and  departed,  and 
were  obedient  to  his  word.  Now  when  they  were  come  into 
the  fair-lying  house,  they  laid  aside  their  mantles  on  the  chairs 
and  high  seats,  and  they  sacrificed  great  sheep  and  stout 
goats,  yea,  and  the  fatlings  of  the  boars  and  an  heifer  of  the 
herd,  and  got  ready  the  feast. 

Now  all  this  while  Odysseus  and  the  goodly  swineherd 
were  bestirring  them  to  go  from  the  field  to  the  city;  and 
the  swineherd,  a  master  of  men,  spake  first  saying  : 

*  Well,  my  friend,  forasmuch  as  I  see  thou  art  eager  to  be 
going  to  the  city  to-day,  even  as  my  master  gave  command ; 


ODVSSEV  XVII,  186-220.  281 

— though  myself  I  would  well  that  thou  shouldest  be  left  here 
to  keep  the  steading,  but  I  hold  him  iii  reverence  and  fear, 
lest  he  chide  me  afterwards,  and  grievous  are  the  rebukes  of 
masters— come  then,  let  us  go  on  our  way,  for  lo,  the  day  is 
far  spent,  and  soon  wilt  thou  find  it  colder  toward  evening.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying: 
*  I  mark,  I  heed :  all  this  thou  speakest  to  one  with  under- 
standing. But  let  us  be  going,  and  be  thou  my  guide  withal 
to  the  end.  And  if  thou  hast  anywhere  a  staff  ready  cut,  give 
it  me  to  lean  upon,  for  truly  ye  said  the  way  was  treacherous.' 

Therewith  he  cast  about  his  shoulders  a  mean  scrip,  all 
tattered,  and  a  cord  withal  to  hang  it,  and  Eumaeus  gave 
him  a  staff  to  his  mind.  So  these  twain  went  on  their  way, 
and  the  dogs  and  the  herdsmen  stayed  behind  to  guard  the 
steading.  And  the  swineherd  led  his  lord  to  the  city  in  the 
guise  of  a  beggar,  a  wretched  man  and  an  old,  leaning  on  a 
staff ;  and  sorry  was  the  raiment  wherewith  he  was  clothed 
upon.  But  as  they  fared  along  the  rugged  path  they  drew 
near  to  the  town,  and  came  to  the  fair  flowing  spring,  with 
a  basin  fashioned,  whence  the  people  of  the  city  drew  water. 
This  well  Ithacus  and  Neritus  and  Polyctor  had  builded.  And 
around  it  was  a  thicket  of  alders  that  grow  by  the  waters,  all 
circlewise,  and  down  the  cold  stream  fell  from  a  rock  on  high, 
and  above  was  reared  an  altar  to  the  Nymphs,  whereat  all 
wayfarers  made  offering.  In  that  place  Melanthius,  son  of 
Dolius,  met  them,  leading  his  goats  to  feast  the  wooers,  the 
best  goats  that  were  in  all  the  herds;  and  two  herdsmen  bare 
him  company.  Now  when  he  saw  them  he  reviled  them,  and 
spake  and  hailed  them,  in  terrible  and  evil  fashion,  and 
stirred  the  heart  of  Odysseus,  saying : 

*Now  in  very  truth  the  vile  is  leading  the  vile,  for  god 
brings  ever  like  to  like  I  Say,  whither  art  thou  leading  this 
glutton, — thou  wretched  swineherd, — this  plaguy  beggar,  a 


'iS2  ODYSSEY  XVII,  220-247. 

kill-joy  of  the  feast  ?  He  is  one  to  stand  about  and  rub  his 
shoulders  against  many  doorposts,  begging  for  scraps  of 
meat,  not  for  swords  or  cauldrons.  If  thou  wouldst  give  me 
the  fellow  to  watch  my  steading  and  sweep  out  the  stalls,  and 
carry  young  branches  to  the  kids,  then  he  might  drink  whey 
and  get  him  a  stout  thigh.  Howbeit,  since  he  is  practised 
only  in  evil,  he  will  not  care  to  betake  him  to  the  labour  of 
the  farm,  but  rather  chooses  to  go  louting  through  the  land 
asking  alms  to  fill  his  insatiate  belly.  But  now  I  will  speak 
out  and  my  word  shall  surely  be  accomplished.  If  ever  he 
fares  to  the  house  of  divine  Odysseus,  many  a  stool  that 
men's  hands  hurl  shall  fly  about  his  head,  and  break  upon 
his  ribs,*  as  they  pelt  him  through  the  house.' 

Therewith,  as  he  went  past,  he  kicked  Odysseus  on  the 
hip,  in  his  witlessness,  yet  he  drave  him  not  from  the  path, 
but  he  abode  steadfast.  And  Odysseus  pondered  whether 
he  should  rush  upon  him  and  take  away  his  life  with  the 
staff,  or  lift  him  in  his  grasp  t  and  smite  his  head  to  the 
earth.  Yet  he  hardened  his  heart  to  endure  and  refrained 
himself.  And  the  swineherd  looked  at  the  other  and  rebuked 
him,  and  lifting  up  his  hands  prayed  aloud : 

*  Nymphs  of  the  well-water,  daughters  of  Zeus,  if  ever 
Odysseus  burned  on  your  altars  pieces  of  the  thighs  of  rams 
or  kids,  in  their  covering  of  rich  fat,  fulfil  for  me  this  wish : — 
oh  that  he,  even  he,  may  come  home,  and  that  some  god 
may  bring  him!  Then  would  he  scatter  all  thy  vaunts, 
which  now  thou  bearest  insolently,  wandering  ever  about 
the  city,  while  evil  shepherds  destroy  the  flock.' 

Then   Melanthius,  the  goatherd,   answered:    *Lo   now, 

*  Reading  nXfvpai. 

f  d(i(pov5ls  is  perhaps  best  taken  as  an  adverb  in  -Sts  forn  ed  from  d/x(pl^ 
though  some  letters  of  the  word  are  still  left  obscure.  Most  modern  com-' 
mentators,  however,  derive  it  from  d/xcpl,  and  ovdas,  'near  the  grounfi;' 
hence,  in  this  context,  '  Hft  him  djf  the  feet' 


ODYSSEY  XVII,  248-277.  283 

what  a  word  has  this  evil-witted  dog  been  saying  I  Some 
day  I  will  take  him  in  a  black  decked  ship  far  from  Ithaca, 
that  he  may  bring  me  in  much  livelihood.  Would  God  that 
Apollo,  of  the  silver  bow,  might  smite  Telemachus  to-day 
in  the  halls,  or  that  he  might  fall  before  the  wooers,  so 
surely  as  for  Odysseus  the  day  of  returning  has  in  a  far 
land  gone  by!* 

So  he  spake  and  left  them  there  as  they  walked  slowly  on. 
But  Melanthius  stepped  forth,  and  came  very  speedily  to  the 
house  of  the  prince,  and  straightway  he  went  in  and  sat  down 
among  the  wooers,  over  against  Eurymachus,  for  he  loved 
him  above  all  the  rest.  And  they  that  ministered  set  by  him 
a  portion  of  flesh,  and  the  grave  dame  brought  wheaten 
bread  and  set  it  by  him  to  eat.  Now  Odysseus  and  the 
goodly  swineherd  drew  near  and  stood  by,  and  the  sound  of 
the  hollow  lyre  rang  around  them,  for  Phemius  was  lifting  up 
his  voice  amid  the  company  in  song,  and  Odysseus  caught 
the  swineherd  by  the  hand,  and  spake,  saying : 

*  Eumaeus,  verily  this  is  the  fair  house  of  Odysseus,  and 
right  easily  might  it  be  known  and  marked  even  among  many. 
There  is  building  upon  building,  and  the  court  of  the  house 
is  cunningly  wrought  with  a  wall  and  battlements,  and  well- 
fenced  are  the  folding  doors ;  no  man  may  hold  it  in  disdain. 
And  I  see  that  many  men  keep  revel  within,  for  the  savour  of 
the  fat  rises  upward,*  and  the  voice  of  the  lyre  is  heard  there, 
which  the  gods  have  made  to  be  the  mate  of  the  feast.' 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  swineherd  Eumaeus: 
•  Easily  thou  knowest  it,  for  indeed  thou  never  lackest  under- 
standing. But  come,  let  us  advise  us,  how  things  shall  fall 
out  here.  Either  do  thou  go  first  within  the  fair-lying  halls, 
and  join  the  company  of  the  wooers,  so  will  I  remain  here, 
or  if  thou  wilt,  abide  here,  and  I  will  go  before  thy  face,  and 

*  Reading  dnJj'Oi'ci'. 


284  ODYSSEY  XVII,  278-310. 

tarry  not  long,  lest  one  see  thee  without,  and  hurl  at  thee  or 
strike  thee.     Look  well  to  this,  I  bid  thee/ 

Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  answered  him,  say- 
ing:  'I  mark,  I  heed,  all  this  thou  speakest  to  one  with  under- 
standing. Do  thou  then  go  before  me,  and  I  will  remain  here, 
for  well  I  know  what  it  is  to  be  smitten  and  hurled  at.  My 
heart  is  full  of  hardiness,  for  much  evil  have  I  suffered  in 
perils  of  waves  and  war ;  let  this  be  added  to  the  tale  of 
those.  But  a  ravening  belly  may  none  conceal,  a  thing 
accursed,  that  works  much  ill  for  men.  For  this  cause  too 
the  benched  ships  are  furnished,  that  bear  mischief  to  foe- 
men  over  the  unharvested  seas.' 

Thus  they  spake  one  to  the  other.  And  lo,  a  hound 
raised  up  his  head  and  pricked  his  ears,  even  where  he  lay, 
yf  cJVrgos,  the  hound  of  Odysseus,  of  the  hardy  heart,  which  of 
old  himself  had  bred,  but  had  got  no  joy  of  him,  for  ere 
that,  he  went  to  sacred  Ilios.  Now  in  time  past  the  young 
men  used  to  lead  the  hound  against  wild  goats  and  deer  and 
hares ;  but  as  then,  despised  he  lay  (his  master  being  afar) 
in  the  deep  dung  of  mules  and  kine,  whereof  an  ample  bed 
was  spread  before  the  doors,  till  the  thralls  of  Odysseus 
should  carry  it  away  to  dung  therewith  his  wide  demesne. 
There  lay  the  dog  Argos,  full  of  vermin.  Yet  even  now 
when  he  was  ware  of  Odysseus  standing  by,  he  wagged  his 
tail  and  dropped  both  his  ears,  but  nearer  to  his  master  he 
had  not  now  the  strength  to  draw.  But  Odysseus  looked 
aside  and  wiped  away  a  tear  that  he  easily  hid  from  Eumaeus, 
and  straightway  he  asked  him,  saying : 

'  Eumaeus,  verily  this  is  a  great  marvel,  this  hound  lying 
here  in  the  dung.  Truly  he  is  goodly  of  growth,  but  I  know 
not  certainly  if  he  have  speed  with  this  beauty,  or  if  he  be 
comely  only,  like  as  are  men's  trencher  dogs  that  their  lords 
keep  for  the  pleasure  of  the  eye/ 


ODYSSEY  XVII,  311-341.  285 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  swineherd  Eumaeus  :  *  In 
very  truth  this  is  the  dog  of  a  man  that  has  died  in  a  far 
land.  If  he  were  what  once  he  was  in  limb  and  in  the  feats 
of  the  chase,  when  Odysseus  left  him  to  go  to  Troy,  soon 
wouldst  thou  marvel  at  the  sight  of  his  swiftness  and  his 
strength.  There  was  no  beast  that  could  flee  from  him 
in  the  deep  places  of  the  wood,  when  he  was  in  pur.  'lit ;  for 
even  on  a  track  he  was  the  keenest  hound.  But  now  he  is 
holden  in  an  evil  case,  and  his  lord  hath  perished  far  from 
his  own  country,  and  the  careless  women  take  no  charge  of 
him.  Nay,  thralls  are  no  more  inclined  to  honest  service 
when  their  masters  have  lost  the  dominion,  for  Zeus,  of  the 
far-borne  voice,  takes  away  the  half  of  a  man's  virtue,  when 
the  day  of  slavery  comes  upon  him.' 

Therewith  he  passed  within  the  fair-lying  house,  and  went 
straight  to  the  hall,  to  the  company  of  the  proud  wooers. 
But  upon  Argos  came  the  fate  of  black  death  even  in  the 
hour  that  he  beheld  Odysseus  again,  in  the  twentieth  year. 

Now  godlike  Telemachus  was  far  the  first  to  behold  the 
swineherd  as  he  came  through  the  hall,  and  straightway  then 
he  beckoned  and  called  him  to  his  side.  So  Eumaeus  looked 
about  and  took  a  settle  that  lay  by  him,  where  the  carver 
was  wont  to  sit  dividing  much  flesh  among  the  wooers  that 
were  feasting  in  the  house.  This  seat  he  carried  and  set  by 
the  table  of  Telemachus  over  against  him,  and  there  sat 
down  himself.  And  the  henchman  took  a  mess  and  served 
it  him,  and  wheaten  bread  out  of  the  basket. 

And  close  behind  him  Odysseus  entered  the  house  in  the 
guise  of  a  beggar,  a  wretched  man  and  an  old,  leaning  on 
his  staff",  and  clothed  on  with  sorry  raiment.  And  he  sat 
down  on  the  ashen  threshold  within  the  doorway,  leaning 
against  a  pillar  of  cypress  wood,  which  the  carpenter  on  a 
time  had  deftly  planed,  and  thereon  made  straight  the  line. 


C>w' 


285  ODYSSEY  XVII,  S42-^'J^. 

And  Telemachus  called  the  swineherd  to  him,  and  took  a 
whole  loaf  out  of  the  fair  basket,  and  of  flesh  so  much  as 
his  hands  could  hold  in  their  grasp,  saying : 

*  Take  and  give  this  to  the  stranger,  and  bid  him  go  about 
and  beg  himself  of  all  the  wooers  in  their  turn,  for  shame  is 
an  ill  mate  of  a  needy  man.* 

So  he  spake,  and  the  swineherd  went  when  he  heard  that 
saying,  and  stood  by  and  spake  to  him  winged  words  : 

*  Stranger,  Telemachus  gives  thee  these  and  bids  thee  go 
about  and  beg  of  all  the  wooers  in  their  turn,  for,  he  says, 
•'  shame  ill  becomes  a  beggar  man." ' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  and  said : 
*  King  Zeus,  grant  me  that  Telemachus  may  be  happy  among 
men,  and  may  he  have  all  his  heart's  desire  1 ' 

Therewith  he  took  the  gift  in  both  hands,  and  set  it  there 
before  his  feet  on  his  unsightly  scrip.  Then  he  ate  meat  so 
long  as  the  minstrel  was  singing  in  the  halls  When  he  had 
done  supper,  and  the  divine  minstrel  was  ending  his  song, 
then  the  wooers  raised  a  clamour  through  the  halls;  but 
Athene  stood  by  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes,  and  moved  him 
to  go  gathering  morsels  of  bread  among  the  wooers,  and 
learn  which  were  righteous  and  which  unjust.  Yet  not  even 
so  was  she  minded  to  redeem  one  man  of  them  from  an  evil 
fate.  So  he  set  out,  beginning  on  the  right,  to  ask  of  each 
man,  stretching  out  his  hand  on  every  side,  as  though  he 
were  a  beggar  from  of  old.  And  they  pitied  him,  and  gave 
him  somewhat,  and  were  amazed  at  him,  asking  one  another 
who  he  was  and  whence  he  came  ? 

Then  Melanthius,  the  goatherd,  spake  among  them : 

*  Listen,  ye  wooers  of  the  renowned  queen,  concerning  this 
stranger,  for  verily  I  have  seen  him  before.  The  swineherd 
truly  was  his  guide  hither,  but  of  him  I  have  no  certain 
knowledge,  whence  he  avows  him  to  be  born.* 


ODYSSEY  XVIIy  374-402.  287 

So  spake  he,  but  Antinous  rebuked  the  swineherd,  saying : 
*  Oh  notorious  swineherd,  wherefore,  I  pray  thee,  didst  thou 
bring  this  man  to  the  city  ?  Have  we  not  vagrants  enough 
besides,  plaguy  beggars,  kill-joys  of  the  feast?  Dost  thou 
count  it  a  Hght  thing  that  they  assemble  here  and  devour 
the  living  of  thy  master,  but  thou  must  needs  *  call  in  this 
man  too?' 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  swineherd  Eumaeus  :  *  An- 
tinous, no  fair  words  are  these  of  thine,  noble  though  thou  art. 
For  who  ever  himself  seeks  out  and  bids  to  the  feast  a  stranger  ] 
from  afar,  save  only  one  of  those  that  are  craftsmen  of  the 
people,  a  prophet  or  a  healer  of  ills,  or  a  shipwright,  or  "? 
even  a  godlike  minstrel,  who  can  delight  all  with  his  song  ? 
Nay,  these  are  the  men  that  are  welcome  over  all  the  wide 
earth.  But  none  would  call  a  beggar  to  the  banquet,  to  be  a 
torment  to  himself.  But  thou  art  ever  hard  above  all  the 
other  wooers  to  the  servants  of  Odysseus,  and,  beyond  all,  to 
me ;  but  behold,  I  care  not,  so  long  as  my  mistress,  the  con- 
stant Penelope,  lives  in  the  halls  and  godlike  Telemachus/ 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying  :  *  Be  silent, 
answer  him  not,  I  pray  thee,  with  many  words,  for  Antinous 
is  wont  ever  to  chide  us  shamefully  with  bitter  speech,  yea, 
and  urges  the  others  thereto.* 

Therewithal  he  spake  winged  words  to  Antinous :  '  An- 
tinous, verily  thou  hast  a  good  care  for  me,  as  it  were  a 
father  for  his  son,  thou  that  biddest  me  drive  our  guest  from 
the  hall  with  a  harsh  command.  God  forbid  that  such  a  thing 
should  be !  Take  somewhat  and  give  it  him :  lo,  I  grudge 
it  not;  nay,  I  charge  thee  to  do  it.  And  herein  regard 
not  my  mother,  nor  any  of  the  thralls  that  are  in  the  house 

*  ithQi  can  hardly  have  a  local  meaning  here.  If  retained,  it  must  be 
nearly  equivalent  to  ttoj;,  'it  seems,'  with  a  touch  of  irony.  Cf.  i.  348. 
The  V.  1.  7rpoTi  =  irp^j  is  a  simpler  reading,  but  by  ao  means  (jertaia. 


288  ODYSSEY  XVII,  402-432. 

of  divine  Odysseus.  Nay,  but  thou  hast  no  such  thought 
in  thy  heart,  for  thou  art  far  more  fain  to  eat  thyself  than  to 
give  to  another/ 

Then  Antinous  answered  him  and  spake,  saying  :  *  Tele- 
machus,  proud  of  speech,  and  unrestrained  in  fury,  what 
word  hast  thou  spoken  ?  If  all  the  wooers  should  vouchsafe 
him  as  much  as  I,  this  house  would  keep  him  far  enough 
aloof  even  for  three  months'  space/ 

So  he  spake,  and  seized  the  footstool  whereon  he  rested 
his  smooth  feet  as  he  sat  at  the  feast,  and  shoWed  it  from 
beneath  the  table  where  it  lay.  But  all  the  others  gave  some- 
what and  filled  the  wallet  with  bread  and  flesh;  yea,  and 
Odysseus  was  even  now  going  back  to  the  threshold,  pre- 
sently to  taste  of  the  bounty  of  the  Achaeans,  but  he  halted 
by  Antinous,  and  spake  to  him,  saying : 

*  Friend,  give  me  somewhat ;  for  methinks  thou  art  not 
the  basest  of  the  Achaeans,  but  the  best  man  of  them  all,  for 
thou  art  like  a  king.  Wherefore  thou  shouldest  give  me  a 
portion  of  bread,  and  that  a  better  than  the  others ;  so 
would  I  make  thee  renowned  over  all  the  wide  earth.  For  I 
too,  once  had  a  house  of  mine  own  among  men,  a  rich  man 
with  a  wealthy  house,  and  many  a  time  would  I  give  to  a 
wanderer,  what  manner  of  man  soever  he  might  be,  and  in 
whatsoever  need  he  came.  And  I  had  thralls  out  of  number, 
and  all  else  in  plenty,  wherewith  folk  live  well  and  have  a  name 
for  riches.  But  Zeus,  the  son  of  Cronos,  made  me  desolate  of 
all, — for  surely  it  was  his  will, — who  sent  me  with  wandering 
sea-robbers  to  go  to  Egypt,  a  far  road,  to  my  ruin.  And  in 
the  river  Aegyptus  I  stayed  my  curved  ships.  Then  verily  I 
bade  my  loved  companions  to  abide  there  by  the  ships,  and 
to  guard  the  ship,  and  I  sent  forth  scouts  to  range  the  points 
of  oudook.  Now  they  gave  place  to  wantonness,  being  the 
fools  of  their  own  force,  and  soon  they  fell  to  wasting  the 


ODVSSEV  XV/I,  43^  4(>2.  289 

fields  of  the  Egyptians,  exceeding  fair,  and  carried  away  their 
wives  and  infant  children,  and  slew  the  men.  And  the  cry 
came  quickly  to  the  city,  and  the  people  heard  the  shout 
and  came  forth  at  the  breaking  of  the  day ;  and  all  the  plain 
was  filled  with  foolmen  and  horsemen  and  with  the  glitter  of 
bronze.  And  Zeus,  whose  joy  is  in  the  thunder,  sent  an  evil 
panic  upon  my  company,  and  none  durst  stand  and  face  the 
foe  :  for  danger  encompassed  us  on  every  side.  There  they 
slew  many  of  us  with  the  edge  of  the  sword,  and  others  they 
led  up  with  them  alive  to  work  for  them  perforce.  But  they 
gave  me  to  a  friend  who  met  them,  to  take  to  Cyprus,  even 
to  Dmetor  son  of  lasus,  who  ruled  mightily  over  Cyprus; 
and  thence,  behold,  am  I  now  come  hither  in  sore  distress.' 

Then  Antinous  answered,  and  spake,  saying  :  *  What  god 
hath  brought  this  plague  hither  to  trouble  the  feast  ?  Stand 
forth  thus  in  the  midst,  away  from  my  table,  lest  thou  come 
soon  to  a  bitter  Egypt  and  a  sad  Cyprus  ;  for  a  bold  beggar 
art  thou  and  a  shameless.  Thou  standest  by  all  in  turn  and 
recklessly  they  give  to  thee,  for  they  hold  not  their  hand  nor 
feel  any  ruth  in  giving  freely  of  others'  goods,  for  that  each 
man  has  plenty  by  him/ 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  drew  back  and  answered 
him  :  '  Lo  now,  I  see  thou  hast  not  wisdom  with  thy  beauty ! 
From  out  of  thine  own  house  thou  wouldest  not  give  even  so 
much  as  a  grain  of  salt  to  thy  suppliant,  thou  who  now  even 
at  another's  board  dost  sit,  and  canst  not  find  it  in  thy  heart 
to  take  of  the  bread  and  give  it  me,  where  there  is  plenty 
to  thy  hand.' 

He  spake,  and  Antinous  waxed  yet  more  wroth  at  heart, 
and  looked  askance  at  him  and  spake  winged  words : 

*  Henceforth,  methinks,  thou  shalt  not  get  thee  out  with 
honour  from  the  hall,  seeing  thou  dost  even  rail  upon  me.' 

Therewith  he  caught  up  the  foot- stool  and  smote  Odysseus 
u 


290  ODVSSEV  XVII,  462-491. 

on  the  right  shoulder,  at  the  upper  end  of  the  back.  But  he 
stood  firm  as  a  rock,  nor  reeled  he  beneath  the  blow  of 
Anlinous,  but  shook  his  head  in  silence,  brooding  evil  in  the 
deep  of  his  heart.  Then  he  went  back  to  the  threshold, 
and  sat  him  there,  and  laid  down  his  well-filled  scrip,  and 
spake  among  the  wooers : 

*  Hear  me,  ye  wooers  of  the  renowned  queen,  and  I  will 
say  what  my  spirit  within  me  bids  me.  Verily  there  is 
neither  pain  nor  grief  of  heart,  when  a  man  is  smitten  in  battle 
fighting  for  his  own  possessions,  whether  cattle  or  white  sheep. 
But  now  Antinous  hath  stricken  me  for  my  wretched  belly's 
sake,  a  thing  accursed,  that  works  much  ill  for  men.  Ah, 
if  indeed  there  be  gods  and  Avengers  of  beggars,  may  the 
issues  of  death  come  upon  Antinous  before  his  wedding!' 

Then  Antinous,  son  of  Eupeithes,  answered  him :  *  Sit 
and  eat  thy  meat  in  quiet,  stranger,  or  get  thee  elsewhere, 
lest  the  young  men  drag  thee  by  hand  or  foot  through  the 
house  for  thy  evil  words,  and  strip  all  thy  fiesh  from  off 
thee.' 

Even  so  he  spake,  and  they  were  all  exceeding  wroth  at 
his  word.  And  on  this  wise  would  one  of  the  lordly  young 
men  speak : 

'  Antinous,  thou  didst  ill  to  strike  the  hapless  wanderer, 
doomed  man  that  thou  art, — if  indeed  there  be  a  god  in 
heaven.  Yea  and  the  gods,  in  the  likeness  of  strangers 
from  far  countries,  put  on  all  manner  of  shapes,  and  wander 
through  the  cities,  beholding  the  violence  and  the  righteous- 
ness of  men.' 

So  the  wooers  spake,  but  he  heeded  not  their  words. 
Now  Telemachus  nursed  in  his  heart  a  mighty  grief  at  the 
smiting  of  Odysseus,  yet  he  let  no  tear  fall  from  his  eyelids 
to  the  ground,  but  shook  his  head  in  silence,  brooding  evil 
in  the  deep  of  his  heart. 


ODYSSEY  XVII,  492-522.  291 

Now  when  wise  Penelope  heard  of  the  stranger  being 
smitten  in  the  halls,  she  spake  among  her  maidens,  saying  : 

'Oh  that  Apollo,  the  famed  archer,  may  so  smite  thee 
thyself,  Antinous ! ' 

And  the  house-dame,  Eurynome,  answered  her,  saying  : 

*  Oh  that  we  might  win  fulfilment  of  our  prayers  !    So  should 
not  one  of  these  men  come  to  the  fair-throned  Dawn/ 

And  wise  Penelope  answered  her :  '  Nurse,  they  are  all 
enemies,  for  they  all  devise  evil  continually,  but  of  them 
all  Antinous  is  the  most  like  to  black  fate.  Some  hapless 
stranger  is  roaming  about  the  house,  begging  alms  of  the 
men,  as  his  need  bids  him ;  and  all  the  others  filled  his 
wallet  and  gave  him  somewhat,  but  Antinous  smote  him 
between  his  right  shoulder  and  the  back  with  a  stool/ 

So  she  spake  among  her  maidens,  sitting  in  her  chamber, 
while  goodly  Odysseus  was  at  meat.  Then  she  called  to  her 
the  goodly  swineherd  and  spake,  saying  : 

*  Go  thy  way,  goodly  Eumaeus,  and  bid  the  stranger  come 
hither,  that  I  may  speak  him  a  word  of  greeting,  and  ask 
him  if  haply  he  has  heard  tidings  of  Odysseus  of  the  hardy 
heart,  or  seen  him  with  his  eyes ;  for  he  seems  like  one  that 
has  wandered  far/ 

Then   didst  thou    make    answer,   swineherd    Eumaeus : 

*  Queen,  oh  that  the  Achaeans  would  hold  their  peace !  so 
would  he  charm  thy  very  heart,  such  things  doth  he  say. 
For  I  kept  him  three  nights  and  three  days  I  held  him  in 
the  steading,  for  Lo  me  he  came  first  when  he  fled  from  the 
ship,  yet  he  had  not  made  an  end  of  the  tale  of  his  affliction.  ^ 
Even  as  when  a  man  gazes  on  a  singer,  whom  the  gods  ■ 
have  taught  to  sing  words  of  yearning  joy  to  mortals,  and 
they  have   a  ceaseless   desire  to  hear  him,  so  long  as  he 
will  sing;   even  so  he  charmed  me,  sitting  by  me  in  the    j 
halls.     He  says  that  he  is  a  friend  of  Odysseus  and  of  his 

u  2 


house,  one  that  dwells  in  Crete,  where  is  the  race  of  Minos. 
Thence  he  has  come  hither  even  now,  with  sorrow  by  the 
way,  onward  and  yet  onward  wandering ;  and  he  stands  to 
it  that  he  has  heard  tidings  of  Odysseus  nigh  at  hand  and 
yet  alive  in  the  fat  land  of  the  men  of  Thesprotia;  and  he 
is  bringing  many  treasures  to  his  home/ 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him,  saying  :  '  Go,  call  him 
hither,  that  he  may  speak  to  me  face  to  face.  But  let  these 
men  sit  in  the  doorway  and  take  their  pleasure,  or  even  here 
in  the  house,  since  their  heart  is  glad.  For  their  own  wealth 
lies  unspoiled  at  home,  bread  and  sweet  wine,  and  thereon 
do  their  servants  feed.  But  they  resorting  to  our  house  day 
by  day  sacrifice  oxen  and  sheep  and  fat  goats,  and  keep  revel 
and  drink  the  dark  wine  recklessly;  and,  lo,  our  great 
wealth  is  wasted,  for  there  is  no  man  now  alive,  such  as 
Odysseus  was,  to  keep  ruin  from  the  house.  Oh,  if 
Odysseus  might  come  again  to  his  own  country;  soon  would 
he  and  his  son  avenge  the  violence  of  these  men !' 

Even  so  she  spake,  and  Telemachus  sneezed  loudly,  and 
around  the  roof  rang  wondrously.  And  Penelope  laughed, 
and  straightway  spake  to  Eumaeus  winged  words : 

'Go,  call  me  the  stranger,  even  so,  into  my  presence. 
Dost  thou  not  mark  how  my  son  has  sneezed  a  blessing  on 
all  my  words  ?  Wherefore  no  half- wrought  doom  shall  befal 
the  wooers  every  one,  nor  shall  any  avoid  death  and  the 
fates.  Yet  another  thing  will  I  say,  and  do  thou  ponder 
it  in  thy  heart.  If  I  shall  find  that  he  has  spoken  nought 
but  truth,  I  will  clothe  him  with  a  mantle  and  a  doublet, 
goodly  raiment/ 

So  she  spake,  and  the  swineherd  departed  when  he  heard 
that  saying,  and  stood  by  the  stranger  and  spake  winged 
words : 

*  Father  and  stranger,  wise  Penelope,  the  mother  of  Telem- 


ODVSSEV  xvi/,  sS4-5^3'  293 

achus,  is  calling  for  thee,  and  her  mind  bids  her  inquire  as 
touching  her  lord,  albeit  she  has  sorrowed  much  already. 
And  if  she  shall  find  that  thou  hast  spoken  nought  but 
truth,  she  will  clothe  thee  in  a  mantle  and  a  doublet,  whereof 
thou  standest  most  in  need.  Moreover  thou  shalt  beg  thy 
bread  through  the  land  and  shalt  fill  thy  belly,  and  whosoever 
will,  shall  give  to  thee.' 

Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  answered  him,  saying : 
*Eumaeus,  soon  would  I  tell  all  the  truth  to  the  daughter 
of  Icarius,  wise  Penelope,  for  well  I  know  his  story,  and 
we  have  borne  our  travail  together.  But  somewhat  I  fear 
the  throng  of  the  fro  ward  wooers,  whose  outrage  and  vio- 
lence reach  even  to  the  iron  heaven.  For  even  now,  as 
I  was  going  through  the  house,  when  this  man  struck  and 
pained  me  sore,  and  that  for  no  ill  deed,  neither  Telem- 
achus  nor  any  other  kept  off  the  blow.  Wherefore  now, 
bid  Penelope  tarry  in  the  halls,  for  all  her  eagerness,  till  the 
going  down  of  the  sun,  and  then  let  her  ask  me  concerning 
her  lord,  as  touching  the  day  of  his  returning,  and  let  her 
give  me  a  seat  yet  nearer  to  the  fire,  for  behold,  I  have 
sorry  raiment,  and  thou  knowest  it  thyself,  since  I  made  my 
supplication  first  to  thee.' 

Even  so  he  spake,  and  the  swineherd  departed  when  he 
heard  that  saying.  And  as  he  crossed  the  threshold  Pene- 
lopfe  spake  to  him: 

*  Thou  bringest  him  not,  Eumaeus :  what  means  the 
wanderer  hereby  ?  Can  it  be  that  he  fears  some  one  out  of 
measure,  or  is  he  even  ashamed  of  tarrying  in  the  house? 
A  shamefaced  man  makes  a  bad  beggar.' 

Then  didst  thou  make  answer,  swineherd  Eumaeus :  '  He 
speaks  aright,  and  but  as  another  would  deem,  in  that  he 
shuns  the  outrage  of  overweening  men.  Rather  would  he 
have  thee  wait  till  the  going  down  of  the  sun.     Yea,  and  it 


294  onvssEV  XVII,  583-605. 

is  far  meeter  for  thyself,  O  queen,  to  utter  thy  word  to 
the  stranger  alone,  and  to  listen  to  his  speech/ 

Then  the  wise  Penelope  answered  :  *  The  stranger  deems 
as  a  man  of  understanding,  and  it  may  well  be  even  so  *. 
For  there  are  no  mortal  men,  methinks,  so  wanton  as  these, 
and  none  that  devise  such  infatuate  deeds.' 

So  she  spake,  and  the  goodly  swineherd  departed  into 
the  throne:  of  the  wooers,  when  he  had  showed  her  all  his 
message.  And  straightway  he  spake  to  Telemachus  winged 
words,  holding  his  head  close  to  him,  that  the  others 
might  not  hear: 

*  Friend,  I  am  going  hence  to  look  after  thy  swine  and 
the  things  of  the  farm,  thy  livelihood  and  mine;  but  do 
thou  take  charge  of  all  that  is  here.  Yet  first  look  to 
thyself  and  take  heed  that  no  evil  comes  nigh  thee,  for 
many  of  the  Achaeans  have  ill  will  against  us,  whom  may 
Zeus  confound  oefore  their  mischief  falls  on  us!' 

And  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  and  said  :  '  Even 
so  shall  it  be,  father;  and  do  thou  get  thee  on  thy  way, 
when  thou  hast  supped.  And  in  the  morning  come  again, 
and  bring  fair  victims  for  sacrifice.  And  all  these  matters 
will  be  a  care  to  me  and  to  the  deathless  gods.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  the  other  sat  down  again  on  the  polished 
setde;  and  when  he  had  satisfied  his  heart  v/ith  meat  and 
drink,  he  went  on  his  way  to  the  swine,  leaving  the  courts 
and  the  hall  full  of  feasters ;  and  they  were  making  merry 
with  dance  and  song,  for  already  it  was  close  on  eventide. 

•  Reading  ws  ircp  &y  cJig. 


BOOK  xvin. 

The  fightingf  at  fists  of  Odysseus  with  Irus.  His  admonitions  to  Amphi- 
nomus.  Penelope  appears  before  the  wooers,  and  draws  presents  from 
them. 

Then  \ip  came  a  common  beggar,  who  was  wont  to  beg 
through  the  town  of  Ithaca,  one  that  was  known  among 
all  men  for  ravening  greed,  for  his  endless  eating  and 
drinking,  yet  he  had  no  force  or  might,  though  he  was 
bulky  enough  to  look  on.  Arnaeus  was  his  name,  for  so 
had  his  good  mother  given  it  him  at  his  birth,  but  all 
the  young  men  called  him  Irus,  because  he  ran  on  errands, 
whensoever  any  might  bid  him.  So  now  he  came,  and 
would  have  driven  Odysseus  from  his  own  house,  and  began 
reviling  him,  and  spake  winged  words : 

*  Get  thee  hence,  old  man,  from  the  doorway,  lest  thou 
be  even  haled  out  soon  by  the  foot.  Seest  thou  not  that 
all  are  now  giving  me  the  wink,  and  bidding  me  drag  thee 
forth?  Nevertheless,  I  feel  shame  of  the  task.  Nay  get 
thee  up,  lest  our  quarrel  soon  pass  even  to  blows.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  looked  askance  upon  him, 
and  spake  saying  :  *  Sir,  neither  in  deed  nor  word  do  I  harm 
thee,  nor  do  1  grudge  that  any  should  give  to  thee,  yea 
though  it  were  a  good  handful.  But  this  threshold  will  hold 
us  both,  and  thou  hast  no  need  to  be  jealous  for  the  sake 
of  other  men's  goods.  Thou  seemest  to  me  to  be  a  wan- 
derer, even  as  I  am,  and  the  gods  it  is  that  are  like  to  give 
us  gain.  Only  provoke  me  not  overmuch  to  buffeting,  lest 
thou  anger  me,  and  old  though  I  be  I  defile  thy  breast  and 
lips  with  blood.     Thereby  should  I  have  the  greater  quiet 


2g6  ODYSSEY  XVIII,  l^-^Z- 

to-morrow,  for  methinks  that  thou  shalt  never  again  come 
to  the  hall  of  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes/ 

Then  the  beggar  Irus  spake  unto  him  in  anger :  *  Lo 
now,  how  trippingly  and  like  an  old  cinder-wife  this  glutton 
speaks,  on  whom  I  will  work  my  evil  will,  and  smite 
him  right  and  left,  and  drive  all  the  teeth  from  his  jaws 
to  the  ground,  like  the  tusks  of  a  swine  that  spoils  the 
corn.  Gird  thyself  now,  that  even  these  men  all  may  know 
our  mettle  in  fight.  Nay,  how  shouldst  thou  do  battle  with 
a  }»ounger  man  than  thou  ?  * 

Thus  did  they  whet  each  the  other's  rage  right  manfully 
before  the  lofty  doors  upon  the  polished  threshold.  And 
the  mighty  prince  Antinous  heard  the  twain,  and  sweetly  he 
laughed  out,  and  spake  among  the  wooers  : 

*  Friends,  never  before  has  there  been  such  a  thing ; 
such  goodly  game  has  a  god  brought  to  this  house.  The 
stranger  yonder  and  Irus  are  bidding  each  other  to  buffets. 
Quick,  let  us  match  them  one  against  the  other.' 

Then  all  at  the  word  leaped  up  laughing,  and  gathered 
round  the  ragged  beggars,  and  Antinous,  son  of  Eupeithes, 
spake  among  them  saying :  •  Hear  me,  ye  lordly  wooers, 
and  I  will  say  somewhat.  Here  are  goats*  bellies  lying  at 
the  fire,  that  we  laid  by  at  supper -time  and  filled  with 
fat  and  blood.  Now  whichsoever  of  the  twain  wins,  and 
shows  himself  the  better  man,  let  him  stand  up  and  take 
his  choice  of  these  puddings.  And  further,  he  shall  always 
eat  at  our  feasts,  nor  will  we  suffer  any  other  beggar  to 
come  among  us  and  ask  for  alms.' 

So  spake  Antinous,  and  the  saying  pleased  them  well. 
Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  spake  among  them 
craftily : 

'  Friends,  an  old  man  and  foredone  with  travail  may  in 
no  wise  fight  with  a  younger.     But  my  belly's  call  is  urgent 


ODVSSEV  XVIII,  54-83.  297 

on  me,  that  evil-worker,  to  the  end  that  I  may  be  subdued 
with  stripes.  But  come  now,  swear  me  all  of  you  a  strong 
oath,  so  that  none,  for  the  sake  of  shewing  a  favour  to  Irus, 
may  strike  me  a  foul  blow  with  heavy  hand  and  subdue 
me  by  violence  to  my  foe/ 

So  he  spake,  and  they  all  swore  not  to  strike  him,  as  he 
bade  them.  Now  when  they  had  sworn  and  done  that 
oath,  the  mighty  prince  Telemachus  once  more  spake  among 
them : 

'Stranger,  if  thy  heart  and  lordly  spirit  urge  thee  to 
rid  thee  of  this  fellow,  then  fear  not  any  other  of  the 
Achaeans,  for  whoso  strikes  thee  shall  have  to  fight  with 
many.  Thy  host  am  I,  and  the  princes  consent  with  me, 
Antinous  and  Eurymachus,  men  of  wisdom  both.' 

So  spake  he  and  they  all  consented  thereto.  Then 
Odysseus  girt  his  rags  about  his  loins,  and  let  his  thighs 
be  seen,  goodly  and  great,  and  his  broad  shoulders  and 
breast  and  mighty  arms  were  manifest.  And  Athene  came 
nigh  and  made  greater  the  limbs  of  the  shepherd  of  the 
people.  Then  the  wooers  were  exceedingly  amazed,  and 
thus  would  one  speak  looking  to  his  neighbour: 

*  Right  soon  will  Irus,  un-Irused,  have  a  bane  of  his  own 
bringing,  such  a  thigh  as  that  old  man  shows  from  out  his 
rags ! ' 

So  they  spake,  and  the  mind  of  Irus  was  pitifully  stirred ; 
but  even  so  the  servants  girded  him  and  led  him  out  per- 
force in  great  fear,  his  flesh  trembling  on  his  limbs.  Then 
Antinous  chid  him,  and  spake  and  hailed  him : 

*  Thou  braggart,  better  for  thee  that  thou  wert  not  now, 
nor  ever  hadst  been  born,  if  indeed  thou  tremblest  before 
this  man,  and  art  so  terribly  afraid ;  an  old  man  too  he  is, 
and  foredone  with  the  travail  that  is  come  upon  him.  But  I 
will  tell  thee  plainly,  and  it  shall  surely  be  accomplished.     If 


298  ODYSSEY  XVIII,  83-111. 

this  man  prevail  against  thee  and  prove  thy  master,  I  will  cast 
thee  into  a  black  ship,  and  send  thee  to  the  mainlarid  to 
Echetus  the  king,  the  maimer  of  all  mankind,  who  will  cut 
off  thy  nose  and  ears  with  the  pitiless  steel,  and  draw  out  thy 
vitals  and  give  them  raw  to  dogs  to  rend/ 

So  he  spake,  and  yet  greater  trembling  gat  hold  of  the 
limbs  of  Irus,  and  they  led  him  into  the  ring,  and  the  twain 
put  up  their  hands.  Then  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus 
mused  in  himself  whether  he  should  smite  him  in  such  wise 
that  his  life  should  leave  his  body,  even  there  where  he  fell, 
or  whether  he  should  strike  him  lightly,  and  stretch  him  on 
the  earth.  And  as  he  thought  thereon,  this  seemed  to  him 
^  the  better  way,  to  strike  lightly,  that  the  Achaeans  might  not 
know  him,  who  he  was.  Then  the  twain  put  up  their  hands, 
and  Irus  struck  at  the  right  shoulder,  but  the  other  smote 
him  on  his  neck  beneath  the  ear,  and  crushed  in  the  bones, 
and  straightway  the  red  blood  gushed  up  through  his  mouth, 
and  with  a  moan  he  fell  in  the  dust,  and  drave  together 
his  teeth  as  he  kicked  the  ground.  But  the  proud  wooers 
threw  up  their  hands,  and  died  outright  for  laughter.  The» 
Odysseus  seized  him  by  the  foot,  and  dragged  him  forth 
through  the  doorway,  till  he  came  to  the  courtyard  and  the 
gites  of  the  corridor,  and  he  set  him  down  and  rested  him 
against  the  courtyard  wall,  and  put  his  staff  in  his  hands, 
and  uttering  his  voice  spake  to  him  winged  words : 

'  Sit  thou  there  now,  and  scare  off  swine  and  dogs,  and  let 
not  such  an  one  as  thou  be  lord  over  strangers  and  beggars, 
pitiful  as  thou  art,  lest  haply  some  worse  thing  befal  thee/ 

Thus  he  spake,  and  cast  about  his  shoulders  his  mean 
scrip  all  tattered,  and  the  cord  therewith  to  hang  it,  and 
he  gat  him  back  to  the  threshold,  and  sat  him  down  there 
again.  Now  the  wooers  went  within  laughing  sweetly,  and 
greeted  him,  saying: 


ODYSSEY  XVIII,  I12-T41.  299 

*May  Zeus,  stranger,  and  all  the  other  deathless  gods 
give  thee  thy  dearest  wish,  even  all  thy  heart's  desire, 
seeing  that  thou  hast  made  that  insatiate  one  to  cease  from 
his  begging  in  the  land !  Soon  will  we  take  him  over  to 
the  mainland,  to  Echetus  the  king,  the  maimer  of  all 
mankind/ 

So  they  spake,  and  goodly  Odysseus  rejoiced  in  the  omen 
of  the  words.  And  Antinous  set  by  him  the  great  pudding, 
stuffed  with  fat  and  blood,  and  Amphinomus  took  up  two 
loaves  from  the  basket,  and  set  them  by  him  and  pledged 
him  in  a  golden  cup,  and  spake  saying  : 

*  Father  and  stranger,  hail!  may  happiness  be  thine  in 
the  time  to  come ;  but  as  now,  thou  art  fast  holden  in  many 
sorrows/ 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying : 
*  Amphinomus,  verily  thou  seemest  to  me  a  prudent  man 
enough ;  for  such  too  was  the  father  of  whom  thou  art 
spr-ung,  for  I  have  heard  the  fair  fame  of  him,  how  that 
Nisus  of  Dulichium  was  a  good  man  and  a  rich,  and  his  son 
they  say  thou  art,  and  thou  seemest  a  man  of  understanding. 
Wherefore  I  will  tell  thee,  and  do  thou  mark  and  listen  to 
me.  Nought  feebler  doth  the  earth  nurture  than  man,  of  all 
the  creatures  that  breathe  and  move  upon  the  face  of  the  earth. 
Lo,  he  thinks  that  he  shall  never  suffer  evil  in  time  to  come, 
while  the  gods  give  him  happiness,  and  his  limbs  move 
lightly.  But  when  again  the  blessed  gods  have  wrought  for  him 
sorrow,  even  so  he  bears  it,  as  he  must,  with  a  steadfast  heart. 
For  the  spirit  of  men  upon  the  earth  is  even  as  their  day, 
that  comes  upon  them  from  the  father  of  gods  and  men.  Yea, 
and  I  too  once  was  like  to  have  been  prosperous  among 
men,  but  many  an  infatuate  deed  I  did,  giving  place  to  mine 
own  hardihood  and  strength,  and  trusting  to  my  father  and 
my  brethren.     Wherefore  let  no  man  for  ever  be  lawless  any 


303  ODYSSEY  XVIII,  142-171. 

more,  but  keep  quietly  the  gifts  of  the  gods,  whatsoever  they 
may  give.  Such  infatuate  deeds  do  I  see  the  wooers  devising, 
as  they  waste  the  wealth,  and  hold  in  no  regard  the  wife  of 
a  man,  who,  methinks,  will  not  much  longer  be  far  from  his 
friends  and  his  own  land;  nay  he  is  very  near.  But  for 
thee,  may  some  god  withdraw  thee  hence  to  thy  home,  and 
mayst  thou  not  meet  him  in  the  day  when  he  returns  to 
his  own  dear  country!  For  not  without  blood,  as  I  deem, 
will  they  be  sundered,  the  wooers  and  Odysseus,  when  once 
he  shall  have  come  beneath  his  own  roof.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  poured  an  offering  and  then  drank  of 
the  honey-sweet  wine,  and  again  set  the  cup  in  the  hanc^s  of 
the  arrayer  of  the  people.  But  the  other  went  back  through 
the  house,  sad  at  heart  and  bowing  his  head ;  for  verily  his 
soul  boded  evil.  Yet  even  so  he  avoided  not  his  fate,  for 
Athene  had  bound  him  likewise  to  be  slain  outright  at  the 
hands  and  by  the  spear  of  Telemachus.  So  he  sat  down 
again  on  the  high  seat  whence  he  had  arisen. 

Now  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  put  it  into  the  heart 
of  the  daughter  of  Icarius,  wise  Penelope,  to  show  herself  to 
the  wooers,  that  she  might  make  their  heart  greatly  to  swell 
for  joy,  and  that  she  might  win  yet  more  worship  from  her 
lord  and  her  son  than  heretofore.  So  she  laughed  an  idle 
laugh,  and  spake  to  the  nurse,  and  hailed  her,  saying  : 

*  Eurynome,  my  heart  yearns,  though  before  I  had  no  such 
desire,  to  show  myself  to  the  wooers,  hateful  as  they  are.  I 
would  also  say  a  word  to  my  son,  that  will  be  for  his 
weal,  namely,  that  he  should  not  for  ever  consort  with  the 
proud  wooers,  who  speak  friendly  with  their  lips,  but  imagine 
evil  in  the  latter  end.* 

Then  the  housewife,  Eurynome,  spake  to  her  saying: 
*Yea  my  child,  all  this  thou  hast  spoken  as  is  meet.  Go 
then,  and  declare  thy  word  to  thy  son  and  hide  it  not,  but 


ODYSSEY  XVIII,  172-202.  301 

first  wash  thee  and  anoint  thy  face,  and  go  not  as  thou  art 
with  thy  cheeks  all  stained  with  tears.  Go,  for  it  is  little 
good  to  sorrow  always,  and  never  cease.  And  lo,  thy  son 
is  now  of  an  age  to  hear  thee,  he  whom  thou  hast  above  all 
things  prayed  the  gods  that  thou  mightest  see  with  a  beard 
upon  his  chin/ 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  her,  saying:  *Eurynome, 
speak  not  thus  comfortably  to  me,  for  all  thy  love,  bidding 
me  to  wash  and  be  anointed  with  ointment.  For  the  gods  j 
that  keep  Olympus  destroyed  my  bloom,  since  the  day 
that  he  departed  in  the  hollow  ships.  But  bid  Autonoe 
and  Hippodameia  come  to  me,  to  stand  by  my  side  in 
the  halls.  Alone  I  will  not  go  among  men,  for  I  am 
ashamed.' 

So  she  spake,  and  the  old  woman  passed  through  the 
chamber  to  tell  the  maidens,  and  hasten  their  coming. 

Thereon  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  had  another 
thought.  She  shed  a  sweet  slumber  over  the  daughter  of 
Icarius,  who  sank  back  in  sleep,  and  all  her  joints  were 
loosened  as  she  lay  in  the  chair,  and  the  fair  goddess  the 
while  was  giving  her  gifts  immortal,  that  all  the  Achaeans 
might  marvel  at  her.  Her  fair  face  first  she  steeped  with 
beauty  imperishable,  such  as  that  wherewith  the  crowned 
Cytherea  is  anointed,  when  she  goes  to  the  lovely  dances  of 
the  Graces.  And  she  made  her  taller  and  greater  to  behold, 
and  made  her  whiter  than  new-sawn  ivory.  Now  when  she 
had  wrought  thus,  that  fair  goddess  departed,  and  the  white- 
armed  handmaidens  came  forth  from  the  chamber  and  drew 
nigh  with  a  sound  of  voices.  Then  sweet  sleep  left  hold  of 
Penelope,  and  she  rubbed  her  cheeks  with  her  hands,  and 
said: 

*  Surely  soft  slumber  wrapped  me  round,  most  wretched 
though  I  be.     Oh!   that  pure  Artemis  would  give  me  so 


302  ODVSSEV  XVIII,  202-233. 

soft  a  death  even  now,  that  I  might  no  more  waste  my  life 
in  sorrow  of  heart,  and  longing  for  the  manifold  excellence 
of  my  dear  lord,  for  that  he  was  foremost  of  the  Achaeans/ 

With  this  word  she  went  down  from  the  shining  upper 
chamber,  not  alone,  for  two  handmaidens  likewise  bare 
her  company.  But  when  the  fair  lady  had  now  come  to  the 
wooers,  she  stood  by  the  doorpost  of  the  well-builded  room, 
holding  her  glistening  tire  before  her  face,  and  on  either 
side  of  her  stood  a  faithful  handmaid.  And  straightway  the 
knees  of  the  wooers  were  loosened,  and  their  hearts  were 
enchanted  with  love,  and  each  one  uttered  a  prayer  that 
he  might  be  her  bed-fellow.  But  she  spake  to  Telemachus, 
her  dear  son : 

*  Telemachus,  thy  mind  and  thy  thoughts  are  no  longer 
stable  as  they  were.  While  thou  wast  still  a  child,  thou 
hadst  a  yet  nimbler  and  more  gainful  wit,  but  now  that  thou 
art  great  of  growth,  and  art  come  to  the  measure  of  man- 
hood, and  a  stranger  looking  to  thy  stature  and  thy  beauty 
might  say  that  thou  must  be  some  rich  man's  son,  thy  mind 
and  thy  thoughts  are  no  longer  right  as  of  old.  For  lo,  what 
manner  of  deed  has  been  done  in  these  halls,  in  that  thou 
hast  suffered  thy  guest  to  be  thus  shamefully  dealt  with! 
How  would  it  be  now,  if  the  stranger  sitting  in  our  house,  were 
thus  to  come  to  some  harm  all  through  this  evil  handling  ? 
Shame  and  disgrace  would  be  thine  henceforth  among  men.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  her :  *  Mother  mine,  as 
to  this  matter  I  count  it  no  blame  that  thou  art  angered.  Yet 
have  I  knowledge  and  understanding  of  each  thing,  of  the 
good  and  of  the  evil ;  but  heretofore  I  was  a  child.  Howbeit 
I  cannot  devise  all  things  according  to  wisdom,  for  these 
men  in  their  evil  counsel  drive  me  from  my  will,  on  this  side 
and  on  that,  and  there  is  none  to  aid  me.  Howsoever  this 
battle  between  Irus  and  the  stranger  did  not  fail  out  as  the 


ODYSSEY  XVIII,  234-255.  303 

wooers  would  have  had  it,  but  the  stranger  proved  the 
better  man.  Would  to  Father  Zeus  and  Athene  and  Apollo, 
that  the  wooers  in  our  halls  were  even  now  thus  vanquished, 
and  wagging  their  heads,  some  in  the  court,  and  some 
within  the  house,  and  that  the  limbs  of  each  man  were 
loosened  in  such  fashion  as  Irus  yonder  sits  now,  by 
the  courtyard  gates  wagging  his  head,  like  a  drunken 
man,  and  cannot  stand  upright  on  his  feet,  nor  yet  get 
him  home  to  his  own  place,  seeing  that  his  limbs  are 
loosened  I ' 

Thus  they  spake  one  to  another.  But  Eurymachus  spake 
to  Penelope,  saying : 

*  Daughter  of  Icarius,  wise  Penelope,  if  all  the  Achaeans  in 
lasian  Argos  could  behold  thee,  even  a  greater  press  of 
wooers  would  feast  in  your  halls  from  to-morrow's  dawn, 
since  thou  dost  surpass  all  women  in  beauty  and  stature,  and 
within  in  wisdom  of  mind/ 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him :  *  Eurymachus,  surely 
my  excellence,  both  of  face  and  form,  the  gods  destroyed 
in  the  day  when  the  Argives  embarked  for  Ilios,  and  with 
them  went  my  lord  Odysseus.  If  but  he  might  come  and 
watch  over  this  my  life,  greater  thus  would  be  my  fame 
and  fairer !  But  now  am  I  in  sorrow ;  such  a  host  of  ills 
some  god  has  sent  against  me.  Ah,  well  do  I  remember, 
when  he  set  forth  and  left  his  own  country,  how  he  took  me 
by  the  right  hand  at  the  wrist  and  spake,  saying : 

*  Lady,  methinks  that  all  the  goodly-greaved  Achaeans 
will  not  .win  a  safe  return  from  Troy ;  for  the  Trojans 
too,  they  say,  are  good  men  at  arms,  as  spearsmen,  and 
bowmen,  and  drivers  of  fleet  horses,  such  as  ever  most 
swiftly  determine  the  great  strife  of  equal  battle.  Wherefore 
I  know  not  if  the  gods  will  suffer  me  to  return,  or  whether  I 
shall  be  cut  oflf  there  in  Troy;  so  do  thou  have  a  care  for  all 


304  ODYSSEY  XVIII,  257-299. 

these  things.  Be  mindful  of  my  father  and  my  mother  in  the 
halls,  even  as  now  thou  art,  or  yet  more  than  now,  while  I- 
am  far  away.  But  when  thou  seest  thy  son  a  bearded  man, 
marry  whom  thou  wilt  and  leave  thine  own  house." 

*  Even  so  did  he  speak,  and  now  all  these  things  have  an 
end.  The  night  shall  come  when  a  hateful  marriage  shall 
find  me  out,  me  most  luckless,  whose  good  hap  Zeus  has 
taken  away.  But  furthermore  this  sore  trouble  has  come  on 
my  heart  and  soul ;  for  this  was  not  the  manner  of  wooers  in 
time  past.  Whoso  wish  to  woo  a  good  lady  and  the  daughter 
of  a  rich  man,  and  vie  one  with  another,  themselves  bring 
with  them  oxen  of  their  own  and  goodly  flocks,  a  banquet  for 
the  friends  of  the  bride,  and  they  give  the  lady  splendid  gifts, 
but  do  not  devour  another's  livelihood  without  atonement.' 

Thus  she  spake,  and  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  rejoiced 
because  she  drew  from  them  gifts,  and  beguiled  their  souls 
with  soothing  words,  while  her  heart  was  set  on  other  things. 

Then  Antinous,  son  of  Eupeithes,  answered  her  again : 
*  Daughter  of  Icarius,  wise  Penelope,  the  gifts  which  any  of 
the  Achaeans  may  choose  to  bring  hither,  do  thou  take ;  for 
it  is  not  well  to  refuse  a  gift.  But  we  for  our  part  will  neither 
go  to  our  lands  nor  otherwhere,  before  thou  art  wedded  to 
the  best  man  of  the  Achaeans/ 

So  spake  Antinous,  and  the  saying  pleased  them  well,  and 
each  man  sent  a  henchman  to  bring  his  gifts.  For  Antinous 
his  henchman  bare  a  broidered  robe,  great  and  very  fair, 
wherein  were  golden  brooches,  twelve  in  all,  fitted  with  well 
bent  clasps.  And  the  henchman  straightway  bare  Euryma- 
chus  a  golden  chain  of  curious  work,  strung  with  amber 
beads,  shining  like  the  sun.  And  his  squires  bare  for  Eury- 
damas  a  pair  of  ear-rings,  with  three  drops  well  wrought,  and 
much  grace  shone  from  them.  And  out  of  the  house  of  Pei- 
sander  the  prince,  the  son  of  Polyctor,  the  squire  brought  a 


ODYSSEY  XVIII,  300-330.  305 

necklet,  a  very  lovely  jewel.     And  likewise  the  Achaeans 
brought  each  one  some  other  beautiful  gift. 

Then  the  fair  lady  went  aloft  to  her  upper  chamber,  and 
her  attendant  maidens  bare  for  her  the  lovely  gifts,  while  the 
wooers  turned  to  dancing  and  the  delight  of  song,  and 
therein  took  their  pleasure,  and  awaited  the  coming  of  even- 
tide. And  dark  evening  came  on  them  at  their  pastime. 
Anon  they  set  up  three  braziers  in  the  halls,  to  give  them 
light,  and  on  these  they  laid  firewood  all  around,  faggots 
seasoned  long  since  and  sere,  and  new  split  with  the  axe, 
and  to  them  they  set  burning  pine-brands.  And  the  maids 
of  Odysseus,  of  the  hardy  heart,  in  turn  were  rousing  the 
light  of  the  flames.  Then  the  prince  Odysseus  of  many 
counsels  himself  spake  among  them  saying : 

*  Ye  maidens  of  Odysseus,  the  lord  so  long  afar,  get  ye  into 
the  chambers  where  the  honoured  queen  abides,  and  twist 
the  yarn  at  her  side,  and  gladden  her  heart  as  ye  sit  in  the 
chamber,  or  card  the  wools  with  your  hands;  but  I  will 
minister  light  to  all  these  that  are  here.  For  even  if  they  are 
minded  to  wait  the  throned  Dawn,  they  shall  not  outstay  me, 
so  long  enduring  am  I.' 

So  he  spake,  but  they  laughed  and  looked  one  at  the 
other.  And  the  fair  Melantho  chid  him  shamefully,  Melantho 
that  Dolius  begat,  but  Penelope  reared,  and  entreated  her 
tenderly  as  she  had  been  her  own  child,  and  gave  her  play- 
things to  her  heart*s  desire.  Yet,  for  all  that,  the  sorrow  of 
Penelope  touched  not  her  heart,  but  she  loved  Eurymachus 
and  was  his  paramour.  Now  she  chid  Odysseus  with  railing 
words : 

*  Wretched  guest,  surely  thou  art  some  brain-struck  man, 
seeing  that  thou  dost  not  choose  to  go  and  sleep  at  a 
smithy,  or  at  some  place  of  common  resort,  but  here  thou 
pratest  much  and  boldly  among  many  lords  and  hast  no  fear 

X 


3o6  ODYSSEY  XVIII,  331-361. 

at  heart.  Verily  wine  has  got  about  thy  wits,  or  perchance 
thou  art  always  of  this  mind,  and  so  thou  dost  babble-  idly. 
Art  thou  beside  thyself  for  joy,  because  thou  hast  beaten  the 
beggar  Irus  ?  Take  heed  lest  a  better  man  than  Irus  rise  up 
presently  against  thee,  to  lay  his  mighty  hands  about  thy 
head  and  bedabble  thee  with  blood,  and  send  thee  hence 
from  the  house/ 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  looked  askance  on  her, 
and  said :  '  Yea,  straight  will  I  go  yonder  and  tell  Telem- 
achus  hereof,  thou  shameless  thing,  for  this  thy  speech,  that 
forthwith  he  may  cut  thee  limb  from  limb.' 

So  he  spake,  and  with  his  saying  scared  away  the  women, 
who  fled  through  the  halls,  and  the  knees  of  each  were 
loosened  for  fear,  for  they  deemed  that  his  words  were  true. 
But  Odysseus  took  his  stand  by  the  burning  braziers,  tending 
the  lights,  and  gazed  on  all  the  men :  but  far  other  matters 
he  pondered  in  his  heart,  things  not  to  be  unfulfilled. 

Now  Athene  would  in  no  wise  suffer  the  lordly  wooers  to 
abstain  from  biting  scorn,  that  the  pain  might  sink  yet  the 
deeper  into  the  heart  of  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes.  So  Eury- 
machus,  son  of  Polybus,  began  to  speak  among  them,  girding 
at  Odysseus,  and  so  made  mirth  for  his  friends : 

*  Hear  me  ye  wooers  of  the  queen  renowned,  that  I  may 
say  that  which  my  spirit  within  me  bids  me.  Not  without 
the  gods'  will  has  this  man  come  to  the  house  of  Odysseus ; 
methinks  at  least  that  the  torchlight  flares  forth  from*  that 
head  of  his,  for  there  are  no  hairs  on  it,  nay  never  so  thin.' 

He  spake  and  withal  addressed  Odysseus,  waster  of  cities: 
*  Stranger,  wouldest  thou  indeed  be  my  hireling,  if  I  would 
take  thee  for  my  man,  at  an  upland  farm,  and  thy  wages 
shall  be  assured  thee,  and  there  shalt  thou  gather  stones  for 
dykes  and  plant  tall  trees?  There  would  I  provide  thee 
bread  continual,  and  clothe  thee  with  r;£iiment,  and  give  thee 
♦  Accepting  the  conjecture  KdK,  —  KaroL,  for  the  MSS.  Koi. 


ODYSSEY  XVIII,  36i-39a  307 

shoes  for  thy  feet.  Howbeit,  since  thou  art  practised  only  in 
evil,  thou  wilt  not  care  to  go  to  the  labours  of  the  field,  but 
wilt  choose  rather  to  go  louting  through  the  land,  that  thou 
mayst  have  wherewithal  to  feed  thine  insatiate  belly.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  and  said : 
*  Eurymachus,  would  that  there  might  be  a  trial  of  labour  be- 
tween us  twain,  in  the  season  of  spring,  when  the  long  days 
begin!  In  the  deep  grass  might  it  be,  and  I  should  have  a 
crooked  scythe,  and  thou  another  like  it,  that  we  might  try 
each  the  other  in  the  matter  of  labour,  fasting  till  late  even- 
tide, and  grass  there  should  be  in  plenty.  Or  would  again, 
that  there  were  oxen  to  drive,  the  best  there  may  be,  large  and 
tawny,  both  well  filled  with  fodder,  of  equal  age  and  force  to 
bear  the  yoke  and  of  strength  untiring  !  And  it  should  be  a 
field  of  four  ploughgates,  and  the  clod  should  yield  before  the 
ploughshare.  Then  shouldest  thou  see  me,  whether  or  no  I 
would  cut  a  clean  furrow  unbroken  before  me.  Or  would 
that  this  very  day  Cronion  might  waken  war  whence  he 
would,  and  that  I  had  a  shield  and  two  spears,  and  a  helmet 
all  of  bronze,  close  fitting  on  my  temples !  Then  shouldest 
thou  see  me  mingling  in  the  forefront  of  the  battle,  nor  speak 
and  taunt  me  with  this  my  belly.  Nay,  thou  art  exceeding 
wanton  and  thy  heart  is  hard,  and  thou  thinkest  thyself 
some  great  one  and  mighty,  because  thou  consortest  with 
few  men  and  feeble.  Ah,  if  Odysseus  might  but  return  and 
come  to  his  own  country,  right  soon  would  yonder  doors 
full  wide  as  they  are,  prove  all  too  strait  for  thee  in  thy  flight 
through  the  doorway  1 ' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  Eurymachus  waxed  yet  the  more 
wroth  at  heart,  and  looking  askance  at  him  spake  to  him 
winged  words : 

*  Ah,  wretch  that  thou  art,  right  soon  will  I  work  thee 
mischief,  so  boldly  thou  pratest  among  many  lords,  and  hast 
X  a 


308  ODYSSEY  XVIII,  391-419. 

no  fear  at  heart.  Verily  wine  has  got  about  thy  wits,  or 
perchance  thou  art  always  of  this  mind,  and  so  thou  dost 
babble  idly.  Art  thou  beside  thyself  for  joy,  because  thou 
hast  beaten  the  beggar  Irus  ? ' 

Therewith  he  caught  up  a  footstool,  but  Odysseus  sat  him 
down  at  the  knees  of  Amphinomus  of  Dulichium,  in  dread  of 
Eurymachus.  And  Eurymachus  cast  and  smote  the  cup- 
bearer on  the  right  hand,  and  the  ladle  cup  dropped  to  the 
ground  with  a  clang,  while  the  young  man  groaned  and  fell 
backwards  in  the  dust.  Then  the  wooers  clamoured  through 
the  shadowy  halls,  and  thus  one  would  say  looking  to  his 
neighbour : 

'Would  that  our  wandering  guest  had  perished  otherwhere, 
or  ever  he  came  hither ;  so  should  he  never  have  made  all 
this  tumult  in  our  midst !  But  now  we  are  all  at  strife  about 
beggars,  and  there  will  be  no  more  joy  of  the  good  feast,  for 
worse  things  have  their  way.' 

Then  the  mighty  prince  Telemachus  spake  among  them : 

*  Sirs,  ye  are  mad ;  now  ye  no  longer  hide  it  that  ye  have 
eaten  and  drunken ;  some  one  of  the  gods  is  surely  moving 
you.  Nay,  now  that  ye  have  feasted  well,  go  home  and  lay 
you  to  rest,  whenso  your  spirit  bids ;  for  as  for  me,  I  drive 
no  man  hence.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  they  all  bit  their  lips  and  marvelled  at 
Telemachus,  in  that  he  spake  boldly.  Then  Amphinomus 
made  harangue,  and  spake  among  them,  Amphinomus,  the 
famous  son  of  Nisus  the  prince,  the  son  of  Aretias : 

•Friends,  when  a  righteous  word  has  been  spoken,  none 
surely  would  rebuke  another  with  hard  speech  and  be  angry. 
Misuse  ye  not  this  stranger,  neither  any  of  the  thralls  that  are 
in  the  house  of  godlike  Odysseus.  But  come,  let  the  wine- 
bearer  pour  for  libation  into  each  cup  in  turn,  that  after  the 
drink-offering  we  may  get  us  home  to  bed.    But  the  stranger 


ODYSSEY  XVIII,  420-428.  309 

let  us  leave  in  the  halls  of  Odysseus  for  a  charge  to  Telem- 
achus  :  for  to  his  home  has  he  come/ 

Thus  he  spake,  and  his  word  was  well-pleasing  to  them 
all.  Then  the  lord  Mulius  mixed  for  them  the  bowl,  the 
henchman  of  Dulichium,  who  was  squire  of  Amphinomus. 
And  he  stood  by  all  and  served  it  to  them  in  their  turn; 
and  they  poured  forth  before  the  blessed  gods,  and  drank 
the  honey-sweet  wine.  Now  when  they  had  poured  forth  and 
had  drunken  to  their  hearts'  content,  they  departed  to  lie 
down,  each  one  to  his  own  house. 


BOOK    XIX. 

Telemachus  removes  the  arms  out  of  the  hall.  Odysseus  discourseth  with 
Penelope.  And  is  known  by  his  nurse,  but  concealed.  And  the  hunting 
of  the  boar  upon  that  occasion  related. 

Now  the  goodly  Odysseus  was  left  behind  in  the  hall,  de- 
vising with  Athene's  aid  the  slaying  of  the  wooers,  and 
straightway  he  spake  winged  words  to  Telemachus : 

*  Telemachus,  we  must  needs  lay  by  the  weapons  of  war 
within,  every  one ;  and  when  the  wooers  miss  them  and  ask 
thee  concerning  them,  thou  shalt  beguile  them  with  soft 
words,  saying : 

*  Out  of  the  smoke  have  I  laid  them  by,  since  they  are  no 
longer  like  those  that  Odysseus  left  behind  him  of  old,  when 
he  went  to  Troy,  but  they  are  wholly  marred,  so  mightily  hath 
passed  upon  them  the  vapour  of  fire.  Moreover  some  god 
hath  put  into  my  heart  this  other  and  greater  care,  that  per- 
chance when  ye  are  heated  with  wine,  ye  set  a  quarrel  between 
you  and  wound  one  the  other,  and  thereby  shame  the  feast 
and  the  wooing ;  for  iron  of  itself  draws  a  man  thereto.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  Telemachus  hearkened  to  his  dear 
father,  and  called  forth  to  him  the  nurse  Eurycleia  and  spake 
to  her,  saying : 

'  Nurse,  come  now  I  pray  thee,  Shut  up  the  women  in 
their  chambers  till  I  shall  have  laid  by  in  the  armoury  the 
goodly  weapons  of  my  father,  which  all  uncared  for  the 
smoke  dims  in  the  hall,  since  my  father  went  hence,  and 
I  was  still  but  a  child.  Now  I  wish  to  lay  them  by  where 
the  vapour  of  the  fire  will  not  reach  them.' 


ODYSSEY  XIX,  21-50.  311 

Then  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  answered  him,  saying : 

*  Ah,  my  child,  if  ever  thou  wouldest  but  take  careful  thought 
in  such  wise  as  to  mind  the  house,  and  guard  all  this  wealth  1 
But  come,  who  shall  attend  thee  and  bear  the  light,  if  thou 
hast  thy  way,  since  thou  wouldest  not  that  the  maidens,  who 
might  have  given  light,  should  go  before  thee  ?  * 

Then  wise  Telemachus  made  answer  to  her :  'This  stranger 
here,  for  I  will  keep  no  man  in  idleness  who  eats  of  my  bread, 
even  if  he  have  come  from  afar/ 

Thus  he  spake,  and  his  word  unwinged  abode  with  her, 
and  she  closed  the  doors  of  the  fair-lying  chambers.  Then 
they  twain  sprang  up,  Odysseus  and  his  renowned  son,  and 
set  to  carry  within  the  helmets  and  the  bossy  shields,  and 
the  sharp-pointed  spears ;  and  before  them  Pallas  Athene 
bare  a  golden  cresset  and  cast  a  most  lovely  light.  Thereon 
Telemachus  spake  to  his  father  suddenly  : 

*  Father,  surely  a  great  marvel  is  this  that  I  behold  with 
mine  eyes;  meseems,  at  least,  that  the  walls  of  the  hall  and 
the  fair  spaces  between  the  pillars  and  the  beams  of  pine, 
and  the  pillars  that  run  aloft,  are  bright  as  it  were  with 
flaming  fire.  Verily  some  god  is  within,  of  those  that  hold 
the  wide  heaven.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  and  said : 

*  Hold  thy  peace  and  keep  all  this  in  thine  heart  and  ask  not 
hereof.  Lo,  this  is  the  wont  of  the  gods  that  hold  Olympus. 
But  do  thou  go  and  lay  thee  down,  and  I  will  abide  here, 
that  I  may  yet  further  provoke  the  maids  and  thy  mother  to 
answer ;  and  she  in  her  sorrow  will  ask  me  concerning  each 
thing,  one  by  one.' 

So  he  spake,  and  Telemachus  passed  out  through  the 
hall  to  his  chamber  to  lie  down,  by  the  light  of  the  flaming 
torches,  even  to  the  chamber  where  of  old  he  took  his  rest, 
when  sweet  sleep  came  over  him.     There  now  too  he  lay 


312  ODYSSEY  XIX,  50-79. 

down  and  awaited  the  bright  Dawn.  But  goodly  Odysseus 
was  left  behind  in  the  hall,  devising  with  Athene's  aid  the 
slaying  of  the  wooers. 

Now  forth  from  her  chamber  came  the  wise  Penelope, 
like  Artemis  or  golden  Aphrodite,  and  they  set  a  chair  for 
her  hard  by  before  the  fire,  where  she  was  wont  to  sit,  a 
chair  deftly  turned  and  wrought  with  ivory  and  silver,  which 
on  a  time  the  craftsman  Icmalius  had  fashioned,  and  had 
joined  thereto  a  footstool,  that  was  part  of  the  chair,  whereon 
a  great  fleece  was  used  to  be  laid.  Here  then,  the  wise  Pene- 
lope sat  her  down,  and  next  came  white-armed  handmaids 
from  the  women's  chamber,  and  began  to  take  away  the 
many  fragments  of  food,  and  the  tables  and  the  cups  whence 
the  proud  lords  had  been  drinking,  and  they  cast  the  embers 
from  the  braziers  on  the  floor,  and  piled  many  fresh  logs 
upon  them,  to  give  light  and  warmth. 

Then  Melantho  began  to  revile  Odysseus  yet  a  second 
time,  saying :  '  Stranger,  wilt  thou  still  be  a  plague  to  us 
here,  wandering  through  the  house  in  the  night,  and  spying 
the  women  ?  Nay,  get  thee  forth,  thou  wretched  thing,  and 
be  content  with  thy  supper,  or  straightway  shalt  thou  even  be 
smitten  with  a  torch  and  so  fare  out  of  the  doors.* 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  looked  askance  on  her, 
and  said :  *  Good  woman,  what  possesses  thee  to  assail  me 
thus  out  of  an  angry  heart  ?  Is  it  because  I  go  filthy  and 
am  clothed  about  in  sorry  raiment,  and  beg  through  the  land, 
for  necessity  is  laid  on  me  ?  This  is  the  manner  of  beggars 
and  of  wandering  men.  For  I  too  once  had  a  house  of 
mine  own  among  men,  a  rich  man  with  a  wealthy  house, 
and  many  a  time  would  I  give  to  a  wanderer,  what  manner 
of  man  soever  he  might  be,  and  in  whatsoever  need  he  came. 
And  I  had  countless  thralls,  and  all  else  in  plenty,  whereby 
folk  live  well  and  have  a  name  for  riches.     But  Zeus,  the 


ODYSSEY  XIX,  80-108.  3*3 

son  of  Cronos,  made  me  desolate  of  all,  for  surely  it  was  his 
will.  Wherefore,  woman,  see  that  thou  too  lose  not  all  the 
glory  wherewith  thou  art  now  preeminent  among  the  hand- 
maids, as  well  may  chance,  if  thy  mistress  be  provoked  to  anger 
with  thee,  or  if  Odysseus  come  home,  for  there  is  yet  a  place 
for  hope.  And  even  if  he  hath  perished  as  ye  deem,  and  is 
never  more  to  return,  yet  by  Apollo's  grace  he  hath  so  g'oodly 
a  son,  Telemachus,  and  none  of  the  women  works  wanton- 
ness in  his  halls  without  his  knowledge,  for  he  is  no  longer 
of  an  age  not  to  mark  it.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  the  wise  Penelope  heard  him,  and 
rebuked  the  handmaid,  and  spake  and  hailed  her : 

*  Thou  shameless  thing  and  unabashed,  thy  great  sin  is  in 
nowise  hidden  from  me,  and  thy  blood  shall  be  on  thine  own 
head  for  the  same !  For  thou  knewest  right  well,  in  that 
thou  hadst  heard  it  from  my  lips,  how  that  I  was  minded 
to  ask  the  stranger  in  my  halls  for  tidings  of  my  lord ;  for 
I  am  grievously  afflicted.' 

Therewith  she  spake  likewise  to  the  housedame,  Eurynome, 
saying : 

'Eurynome,  bring  hither  a  settle  with  a  fleece  thereon, 
that  the  stranger  may  sit  and  speak  with  me  and  hear  my 
words,  for  I  would  ask  him  all  his  story.' 

So  she  spake,  and  the  nurse  made  haste  and  brought  a 
polished  settle,  and  cast  a  fleece  thereon;  and  then  the 
steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  sat  him  down  there,  and  the  wise 
Penelope  spake  first,  saying : 

'  Stranger,  I  will  make  bold  first  to  ask  thee  this :  who 
art  thou  of  the  sons  of  men,  and  whence?  Where  is  thy 
city,  and  where  are  they  that  begat  thee  ? ' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  and  said : 
*  Lady,  no  one  of  mortal  men  in  the  wide  vYorld  could  find 
fault  with  thee,  for  thy  fame  goes  up  to  the  wide  heaven,  as 


314  ODVSSEV  XIX,  109-141. 

doth  the -fame  of  a  blameless  king,  one  that  fears  the  gods 
and  reigns  among  many  men  and  mighty,  maintaining  right, 
and  the  black  earth  bears  wheat  and  barley,  and  the  trees 
are  laden  with  fruit,  and  the  sheep  bring  forth  and  fail  not, 
and  the  sea  gives  store  of  fish,  and  all  out  of  his  good  guid- 
ance, and  the  people  prosper  under  him.  Wherefore  do 
thou  ask  me  now  in  thy  house  all  else  that  thou  wilt,  but 
inquire  not  concerning  my  race  and  mine  own  country,  lest 
as  I  think  thereupon  thou  fill  my  heart  the  more  with  pains, 
for  I  am  a  man  of  many  sorrows.  Moreover  it  beseems  me 
not  to  sit  weeping  and  wailing  in  another's  house,  for  it  is 
little  good  to  mourn  always  without  ceasing,  lest  perchance 
one  of  the  maidens,  or  even  thyself,  be  angry  with  me 
and  say  that  I  swim  in  tears,  as  one  that  is  heavy  with 
wine.* 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him,  and  said :  '  Stranger, 
surely  my  goodliness  both  of  face  and  form  the  gods  de- 
stroyed, in  the  day  when  the  Argives  embarked  for  Ilios,  and 
with  them  went  my  lord  Odysseus.  If  but  he  might  come 
and  watch  over  this  my  life,  greater  and  fairer  thus  would 
be  my  fame  1  But  now  am  I  in  sorrow,  such  a  host  of 
ills  some  god  has  sent  against  me.  For  all  the  noblest  that 
are  princes  in  the  isles,  in  Dulichium  and  Same  and  wooded 
Zacynthus,  and  they  that  dwell  around  even  in  clear-seen 
Ithaca,  these  are  w^ooing  me  against  my  will,  and  de- 
vouring the  house.  Wherefore  I  take  no  heed  of  strangers, 
nor  suppliants,  nor  at  all  of  heralds,  the  craftsmen  of  the 
people.  But  I  waste  my  heart  away  in  longing  for  Odysseus  ; 
so  they  speed  on  my  marriage  and  I  weave  a  web  of  wiles. 
First  some  god  put  it  into  my  heart  to  set  up  a  great  web  in 
the  halls,  and  thereat  to  weave  a  robe  fine  of  woof  and  very 
wide ;  and  anon  I  spake  among  them,  saying :  "  Ye  princely 
youths,  my  wooers,  now  that  goodly  Odysseus  is  dead,  do  ye 


ODYSSEY  XIX,   142-169.  315 

abide  patiently,  how  eager  soever  to  speed  on  this  marriage 
of  mine,  till  I  finisfi  the  robe.  I  would  not  that  the  threads 
perish  to  no  avail,  even  this  shroud  for  the  hero  Laertes, 
against  the  day  when  the  ruinous  doom  shall  bring  him  low, 
of  death  that  lays  men  at  their  length.  So  shall  none  of  the 
Achaean  women  in  the  land  count  it  blame  in  me,  as  well 
might  be,  were  he  to  lie  without  a  winding  sheet,  a  man  that 
had  gotten  great  possessions." 

*  So  spake  I,  and  their  high  hearts  consented  thereto.  So 
then  in  the  daytime  I  would  weave  the  mighty  web,  and  in 
the  night  unravel  the  same,  when  I  had  let  place  the  torches 
by  me.  Thus  for  the  space  of  three  years  I  hid  the  thing 
by  craft  and  beguiled  the  minds  of  the  Achaeans.  But  when 
the  fourth  year  arrived,  and  the  seasons  came  round  as  the 
months  waned,  and  many  days  were  accomplished,  then  it 
was  that  by  help  of  the  handmaids,  shameless  things  and 
reckless,  the  wooers  came  and  trapped  me,  and  chid  me 
loudly.  Thus  did  I  finish  the  web  by  no  will  of  mine,  for 
so  I  must.  And  now  I  can  neither  escape  the  marriage  nor 
devise  any  further  counsel,  and  my  parents  are  instant  with 
me  to  marry,  and  my  son  chafes  while  these  men  devour  his 
livelihood,  as  he  takes  note  of  all ;  for  by  this  time  ht  has 
come  to  man's  estate,  and  is  full  able  to  care  for  a  house- 
hold, being  such  an  one  as  Zeus  vouchsafes  to  honour. 
But  even  so  tell  me  of  thine  own  stock,  whence  thou  art, 
for  thou  art  not  sprung  of  oak  or  rock,  whereof  old  tales 
tell.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  and  said : 
'  O  wife  revered  of  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes,  thou  wilt 
never  have  done  asking  me  about  mine  own  race.  Nay,  but 
I  will  tell  thee;  yet  surely  thou  wilt  give  me  over  to 
sorrows  yet  more  than  those  wherein  I  am  holden,  for  so 
it  ever  is  when  a  man  has  been  afar  from  his  own  country,  so 


3i6  ODYSSEY  XIX,   169-201. 

long  as  now  I  am,  wandering  in  sore  pain  to  many  cities  of 
mortals.  Yet  even  so  I  will  tell  thee  what  thou  askest  and 
inquirest.  There  is  a  land  called  Crete  in  the  midst  of  the 
wine-dark  sea,  a  fair  land  and  a  rich,  begirt  v/ith  water,  and 
therein  are  many  men  innumerable,  and  ninety  cities.  And 
all  have  not  the  same  speech,  but  there  is  confusion  of 
tongues;  there  dwell  Achaeans  and  there  too  Cretans  of  Crete, 
high  of  heart,  and  Cydonians  there  and  Dorians  of  waving 
plumes  and  goodly  Pelasgians.  And  among  these  cities  is  the 
mighty  city  Cnosus,  wherein  Minos  when  he  was  nine  years 
old  began  to  rule,  he  who  held  converse  with  great  Zeus,  and 
was  the  father  of  my  father,  even  of  Deucalion,  high  of  heart. 
Now  Deucalion  begat  me  and  Idomeneus  the  prince.  How- 
beit,  he  had  gone  in  his  beaked  ships  up  into  Ilios,  with  the 
sons  of  Atreus ;  but  my  famed  name  is  Aethon,  being  the 
younger  of  the  twain  and  he  was  the  first  born  and  the  better 
man.  There  I  saw  Odysseus,  and  gave  him  guest-gifts,  for 
the  might  of  the  wind  bare  him  too  to  Crete,  as  he  was 
making  for  Troy  land,  and  had  driven  him  wandering  past 
Malea.  So  he  stayed  his  ships  in  Amnisus,  whereby  is  the 
cave  of  Eilithyia,  in  havens  hard  to  win,  and  scarce  he 
escaped  the  tempest.  Anon  he  came  up  to  the  city  and 
asked  for  Idomeneus,  saying  that  he  was  his  friend  and 
held  by  him  in  love  and  honour.  But  it  was  now  the  tenth 
or  the  eleventh  dawn  since  Idomeneus  had  gone  in  his 
beaked  ships  up  into  Ilios.  Then  I  led  him  to  the  house, 
and  gave  him  good  entertainment  with  all  loving-kindness 
out  of  the  plenty  in  my  house,  and  for  him  and  for  the  rest 
of  his  company,  that  went  with  him,  I  gathered  and  gave 
barley  meal  and  dark  wine  out  of  the  public  store,  and  oxen 
to  sacrifice  to  his  heart's  desire.  There  the  goodly  Achaeans 
abode  twelve  days,  for  the  strong  North  Wind  penned  them 
there,  and  suffered  them  not  so  much  as  to  hold  their  feet 


ODYSSEY  XIX,  20l-iJ32.  317 

on  land,  for  some  angry  god  had  roused  it.    On  the  thirteenth 
day  the  wind  fell,  and  then  they  lifted  anchor.' 

So  he  told  many  a  false  tale  in  the  likeness  of  truth,  and 
her  tears  flowed  as  she  listened,  and  her  flesh  melted.  And 
even  as  the  snow  melts  in  the  high  places  of  the  hills,  the 
snow  that  the  South-East  wind  has  thawed,  when  the  West 
has  scattered  it  abroad,  and  as  it  wastes  the  river  streams  run 
full,  even  so  her  fair  cheeks  melted  beneath  her  tears,  as  she 
wept  her  own  lord,  who  even  then  was  sitting  by  her.  Now 
Odysseus  had  compassion  of  heart  upon  his  wife  in  her 
lamenting,  but  his  eyes  kept  steadfast  between  his  eyelids  as 
it  were  horn  or  iron,  and  craftily  he  hid  his  tears.  But  she, 
when  she  had  taken  her  fill  of  tearful  lamentation,  answered 
him  in  turn  and  spake,  saying : 

'Friend  as  thou  art,  even  now  I  think  to  make  trial  of 
thee,  and  learn  whether  in  very  truth  thou  didst  entertain  my 
lord  there  in  thy  halls  with  his  godlike  company,  as  thou 
sayest.  Tell  me  what  manner  of  raiment  he  was  clothed 
in  about  his  body,  and  what  manner  of  man  he  was  himself, 
and  tell  me  of  his  fellows  that  went  with  him.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying: 
*  Lady,  it  is  hard  for  one  so  long  parted  from  him  to  tell 
thee  all  this,  for  it  is  now  the  twentieth  year  since  he  went 
thither  and  left  my  country.  Yet  even  so  I  will  tell  thee 
as  I  see  him  in  spirit.  Goodly  Odysseus  wore  a  thick  purple 
mantle,  twofold,  which  had  a  brooch  fashioned  in  gold, 
with  a  double  covering  for  the  pins,  and  on  the  face  of  it 
was  a  curious  device  :  a  hound  in  his  forepaws  held  a 
dappled  fawn  and  gazed  on  it  as  it  writhed.  And  all  men 
marvelled  at  the  workmanship,  how,  wrought  as  they  were  in 
gold,  the  hound  was  gazing  on  the  fawn  and  strangling  it, 
and  the  fawn  was  writhing  with  his  feet  and  striving  to  flee. 
Moreover,  I  marked  the  shining  doublet  about  his  body,  as 


3l8  ODYSSEY  XIX,  233-254. 

it  were  the  skin  of  a  dried  onion,  so  smooth  it  was,  and 
glistering  as  the  sun ;  truly  many  women  looked  thereon  and 
wondered.  Yet  another  thing  will  I  tell  thee,  and  do  thou 
ponder  it  in  thy  heart.  I  know  not  if  Odysseus  was  thus  clothed 
upon  at  home,  or  if  one  of  his  fellows  gave  him  the  raiment 
as  he  went  on  board  the  swift  ship,  or  even  it  may  be  some 
stranger,  seeing  that  to  many  men  was  Odysseus  dear,  for 
few  of  the  Achaeans  were  his  peers.  I,  too,  gave  him  a 
sword  of  bronze,  and  a  fair  purple  mantle  with  double  fold, 
and  a  tasseled  doublet,  and  I  sent  him  away  with  all  honour 
on  his  decked  ship.  Moreover,  a  henchman  bare  him  com- 
pany, somewhat  older  than  he,  and  I  will  tell  thee  of  him 
too,  what  manner  of  man  he  was.  He  was  round-shouldered, 
brown-skinned,  and  curly-haired,  his  name  Eurybates ;  and 
Odysseus  honoured  him  above  all  his  company,  because  in 
all  things  he  was  like-minded  with  himself.' 

So  he  spake,  and  in  her  heart  he  stirred  yet  more  the 
desire  of  weeping,  as  she  knew  the  certain  tokens  that  Odys- 
seus showed  her.  So  when  she  had  taken  her  fill  of  tearful 
lament,  then  she  answered  him,  and  spake  saying : 

*  Now  verily,  stranger,  thou  that  even  before  wert  held  in 
pity,  shalt  be  dear  and  honourable  in  my  halls,  for  it  was  I 
who  gave  him  these  garments,  even  such  as  thou  namest, 
and  folded  them  myself,  and  brought  them  from  the  cham- 
ber, and  added  besides  the  shining  brooch  to  be  his  jewel. 
But  him  I  shall  never  welcome  back,  returned  home  to  his 
own  dear  country.  Wherefore  with  an  evil  fate  it  was  that 
Odysseus  went  hence  in  the  hollow  ship  to  see  that  evil 
Ilios,  never  to  be  named.* 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying : 
*  Wife  revered  of  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes,  destroy  not  now 
thy  fair  flesh  any  more,  nor  waste  thy  heart  with  weeping  for 
thy  lord ; — not  that  I  count  it  any  blame  in  thee,  for  many  a 


onvssEV  XIX,  265-297.  319 

woman  weeps  that  has  lost  her  gentle  lord,  to  whom  she  has 
borne  children  in  her  love, — albeit  a  far  other  man  than  Odys- 
seus, who,  they  say,  is  like  the  gods.  Nay,  cease  from  thy 
lamenting,  and  lay  up  my  word  in  thy  heart ;  for  I  will  tell 
thee  without  fail,  and  will  hide  nought,  how  but  lately  I 
heard  tell  of  the  return  of  Odysseus,  that  he  is  nigh  at  hand, 
and  yet  alive  in  the  fat  land  of  the  men  of  Thesprotia,  and 
is  bringing  with  him  many  choice  treasures,  as  he  begs 
through  the  land.  But  he  has  lost  his  dear  companions  and 
his  hollow  ship  on  the  wine-dark  sea,  on  his  way  from  the  isle 
Thrinacia :  for  Zeus  and  Helios  had  a  grudge  against  him, 
because  his  company  had  slain  the  kine  of  Helios.  They  for 
their  part  all  perished  in  the  wash  of  the  sea,  but  the  wave 
cast  him  on  the  keel  of  the  ship  out  upon  the  coast,  on  the 
land  of  the  Phaeacians  that  are  near  of  kin  to  the  gods,  and 
they  did  him  all  honour  heartily  as  unto  a  god,  and  gave  him 
many  gifts,  and  themselves  would  fain  have  sent  him  scath- 
less  home.  Yea  and  Odysseus  would  have  been  here  long 
since,  but  he  thought  it  more  profitable  to  gather  wealth,  as 
he  journeyed  over  wide  lands ;  so  truly  is  Odysseus  skilled  in 
gainful  arts  above  all  men  upon  earth,  nor  may  any  mortal 
men  contend  with  him.  So  Pheidon  king  of  the  Thespro- 
tians  told  me.  Moreover  he  sware,  in  mine  own  presence,  as 
he  poured  the  drink-offering  in  his  house,  that  the  ship  was 
drawn  down  to  the  sea  and  his  company  were  ready,  who 
were  to  convey  him  to  his  own  dear  country.  But  me  he  first 
sent  off,  for  it  chanced  that  a  ship  of  the  Thesprotians  was  on 
her  way  to  Dulichium,  a  land  rich  in  grain.  And  he  showed 
me  all  the  wealth  that  Odysseus  had  gathered,  yea  it  would 
suffice  for  his  children  after  him,  even  to  the  tenth  generation, 
so  great  were  the  treasures  he  had  stored  in  the  chambers  of 
the  king.  As  for  him  he  had  gone,  he  said,  to  Dodona  to 
bear  the  counsel  of  Zeus,  from  the  high  leafy  oak  tree  of  the 


320  ODYSSEY  XIX,  297-33I. 

god,  how  he  should  return  to  his  own  dear  country,  having 
now  been  long  afar,  whether  openly  or  by  stealth. 

*In  this  wise,  as  I  tell  thee,  he  is  safe  and  will  come 
shortly,  and  very  near  he  is  and  will  not  much  longer  be  far 
from  his  friends  ^d  his  own  country;  yet  withal  I  M'ill  give 
thee  my  oath  on  it.  Zeus  be  my  witness  first,  of  gods  the 
highest  and  best,  and  the  hearth  of  noble  Odysseus  whereunto 
I  am  come,  that  all  these  things  shall  surely  be  accomplished 
even  as  I  tell  thee.  In  this  same  year  Odysseus  shall  come 
hither,  as  the  old  moon  wanes  and  the  new  is  born.* 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him :  *  Ah  1  stranger  would 
that  this  word  may  be  accomplished.  Soon  shouldst  thou 
be  aware  of  kindness  and  many  a  gift  at  my  hands,  so 
that  whoso  met  with  thee  would  call  thee  blessed.  But  on 
this  wise  my  heart  has  a  boding,  and  so  it  shall  be.  Neither 
shall  Odysseus  come  home  any  more,  nor  shalt  thou  gain  an 
escort  hence,  since  there  are  not  now  such  masters  in  the 
house  as  Odysseus  was  among  men, — if  ever  such  an  one 
there  was, — to  welcome  guests  revered  and  speed  them  on 
their  way.  But  do  ye,  my  handmaids,  wash  this  man's  feet 
and  lay  a  bed  for  him,  mattress  and  mantles  and  shining 
blankets,  that  well  and  warmly  he  may  come  to  the  time  of 
golden-throned  Dawn.  And  very  early  in  the  morning  bathe 
him  and  anoint  him,  that  within  the  house  beside  Telemachus 
he  may  eat  meat,  sitting  quietly  in  the  hall.  And  it  shall  be 
the  worse  for  any  hurtful  man  of  the  wooers,  that  vexes  the 
stranger,  yea  he  shall  not  henceforth  profit  himself  here,  for  all 
his  sore  anger.  For  how  shalt  thou  learn  concerning  me, 
stranger,  whether  indeed  I  excel  all  women  in  wit  and  thrifty 
device,  if  all  unkempt  and  evil  clad  thou  sittest  at  supper  in 
my  halls  ?  Man's  life  is  brief  enough  1  And  if  any  be  a  hard 
man  and  hard  at  heart,  all  men  cry  evil  on  him  for  the  time 
to  come,  while  yet  he  lives,  and  all  men  mock  him  when  he 


ODYSSEY  XIX,  333-354.  321 

is  dead.  But  if  any  be  a  blameless  man  and  blameless  of 
heart,  his  guests  noise  his  wide  fame  abroad,  and  many  call 
him  excellent/ 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  and  said : 
*  O  wife  revered  of  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes,  mantles  verily 
and  shining  blankets  are  hateful  to  me,  since  first  I  lefi  be- 
hind me  the  snowy  hills  of  Crete,  voyaging  in  the  long-oared 
galley ;  nay,  I  will  lie  as  in  time  past  I  was  used  to  rest 
through  the  sleepless  nights.  For  full  many  a  night  I  have 
lain  on  an  unsightly  bed,  and  awaited  the  bright  throned 
Dawn.  And  baths  for  the  feet  are  no  longer  my  delight, 
nor  shall  any  women  of  those  who  are  serving  maidens  in 
thy  house  touch  my  foot,  unless  there  chance  to  be  some  old 
wife,  true  of  heart,  one  that  has  borne  as  much  trouble  as 
myself;  I  would  not  grudge  such  an  one  to  touch  my 
feet.' 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him :  *  Dear  stranger,  for 
there  has  been  none  ever  so  discreet  as  thou,  nor  dearer,  of 
all  the  strangers  from  afar  that  have  come  to  my  house,  so 
clearly  thou  speakest  all  things  prudently;  I  have  such  an 
ancient  woman  of  an  understanding  heart,  that  diligently 
nursed  that  hapless  man  my  lord,  and  cherished  him  and 
took  him  in  her  arms,  in  the  hcur  when  his  mother  bare  him. 
She  will  wash  thy  feet,  albeit  she  is  weak  with  age.  Up  now, 
wise  Eurycleia,  and  wash  this  man,  who  is  of  like  age  with 
thy  master.  Yea  and  perchance  such  even  now  are  the  feet 
of  Odysseus,  and  such  too  his  hands,  for  men  quickly  age  in 
evil  fortune.' 

So  she  spake,  and  the  old  woman  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands  and  shed  warm  tears,  and  spake  a  word  of 
lamentation,  saying: 

*Ah,  woe  is  me,  child,  for  thy  sake,  all  helpless  that  I  am! 
Surely  Zeus  hated  thee  above  all  men,  though  thou  hadst  a 

T 


322  ODYSSEY  XIX,  364-394. 


god-fearing  spirit!  For  never  yet  did  any  mortal  burn  so 
many  fat  pieces  of  the  thigh  and  so  many  choice  hecatombs 
to  Zeus,  whose  joy  is  in  the  thunder,  as  thou  didst  give  to 
him,  with  prayers  that  so  thou  mightest  grow  to  a  smooth  old 
age  and  rear  thy  renowned  son.  But  now  from  thee  alone 
hath  Zeus  wholly  cut  off  the  day  of  thy  returning.  Haply 
at  him  too  did  the  women  mock  in  a  strange  land  afar, 
whensoever  he  came  to  the  famous  palace  of  any  lord, 
even  as  here  these  shameless  ones  all  mock  at  thee.  To 
shun  their  insults  and  many  taunts  it  is  that  thou  sufferest 
them  not  to  wash  thy  feet,  but  the  daughter  of  Icarius,  wise 
Penelope,  hath  bidden  me  that  am  right  willing  to  this  task. 
Wherefore  I  will  wash  thy  feet,  both  for  Penelope's  sake  and 
for  thine  own,  for  that  my  heart  within  me  is  moved  with 
pity.  But  come,  mark  the  word  that  I  shall  speak.  Many 
strangers  travel-worn  have  ere  now  come  hither,  but  I  say 
that  I  have  never  seen  any  so  like  another,  as  thou  art  like 
Odysseus,  in  fashion  in  voice  and  in  feet.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying: 
*01d  wife,  even  so  all  men  declare,  that  have  beheld  us 
twain,  that  we  favour  each  other  exceedingly,  even  as  thou 
dost  mark  and  say.' 

Thereupon  the  crone  took  the  shining  cauldron,  which*  she 
used  for  the  washing  of  feet,  and  poured  in  much  cold  water 
and  next  mingled  therewith  the  warm.  Now  Odysseus  sat 
aloof  from  the  hearth,  and  of  a  sudden  he  turned  his  face 
to  the  darkness,  for  anon  he  had  a  misgiving  of  heart  lest 
when  she  handled  him  she  might  know  the  scar  again,  and 
all  should  be  revealed.  Now  she  drew^  near  her  lord  to  wash 
him,  and  straightway  she  knew  the  scar  of  the  wound,  that 
the  boar  had  dealt  him  with  his  white  tusk  long  ago,  when 
Odysseus  went  to  Parnassus  to  see  Autolycus,  and  the  sons  of 
♦  Reading  r^. 


ODYSSEY  XIX,  395-427.  323 


Autolycus,  his  mother's  noble  father,  who  outdid  all  men  in 
thievery  and  skill  in  swearing.  This  skill  was  the  gift  of  the 
god  himself,  even  Hermes,  for  that  he  burned  to  him  the  well- 
pleasing  sacrifice  of  the  thighs  of  lambs  and  kids ;  wherefore  "^ 
Hermes  abetted  him  gladly.  Now  Autolycus  once  had  gone 
to  the  rich  land  of  Ithaca,  and  found  his  daughter's  son  a  child 
new-born,  and  when  he  was  making  an  end  of  supper,  behold, 
Eurycleia  set  the  babe  on  his  knees,  and  spake  and  hailed 
him :  '  Autolycus  find  now  a  name  thyself  to  give  thy  child's 
own  son ;  for  lo,  he  is  a  child  of  many  prayers/ 

Then  Autolycus  made  answer  and  spake:  *My  daughter 
and  my  daughter's  lord,  give  ye  him  whatsoever  name  I 
tell  you.  For,  behold,  I  am  come  hither  in  great  wrath 
against  many  a  one,  both  man  and  woman,  over  the  fruitful  \ 
earth,  wherefore  let  the  child's  name  be  "  a  man  of  wrath," 
Odysseus.  But  when  the  child  reaches  his  full  growth,  and 
comes  to  the  great  house  of  his  mother's  kin  at  Parnassus, 
whereby  are  my  possessions,  I  will  give  him  a  gift  out  of 
these  and  send  him  on  his  way  rejoicing.' 

Therefore  it  was  that  Odysseus  went  to  receive  the 
splendid  gifts.  And  Autolycus  and  the  sons  of  Autolycus 
grasped  his  hands  and  greeted  him  with  gentle  words,  and 
Amphithea,  his  mother's  mother,  cast  her  arms  about  him 
and  kissed  his  face  and  his  beautiful  eyes.  Then  Autolycus 
called  to  his  renowned  sons  to  get  ready  the  meal,  and  they 
hearkened  to  the  call.  So  presently  they  led  in  a  five-year- 
old  bull,  which  they  flayed  and  busily  prepared,  and  cut  up 
all  the  limbs  and  deftly  chopped  them  small,  and  pierced  them  ' 
with  spits  and  roasted  them  cunningly,  dividing  the  messes. 
So  for  that  livelong  day  they  feasted  till  the  going  down  of 
the  sun,  and  their  soul  lacked  not  ought  of  the  equal 
banquet  But  when  the  sun  sank  and  darkness  came  on, 
then  they  laid  them  to  rest  and  took  the  boon  of  sleep. 

Y    2 


3^4  ODVSSEV  XIX,  428-459. 

Now  so  soon  as  early  Dawn  shone  forth,  the  rosy-fingered, 
they  all  went  forth  to  the  chase,  the  hounds  and  the  sons  of 
Autolycus,  and  with  them  went  the  goodly  Odysseus.  So 
they  fared  up  the  steep  hill  of  wood-clad  Parnassus,  and 
quickly  they  came  to  the  windy  hollows.  Now  the  sun  was 
but  just  striking  on  the  fields,  and  was  come  forth  from  the 
soft  flowing  stream  of  deep  Oceanus.  Then  the  beaters 
reached  a  glade  of  the  woodland,  and  before  them  went 
the  hounds  tracking  a  scent,  but  behind  came  the  sons  of 
Autolycus,  and  among  them  goodly  Odysseus  followed  close 
on  the  hounds,  swaying  a  long  spear.  Thereby  in  a  thick 
lair  was  a  great  boar  lying,  and  through  the  coppice  the 
force  of  the  wet  winds  blew  never,  neither  did  the  bright 
sun  light  on  it  with  his  rays,  nor  could  the  rain  pierce 
through,  so  thick  it  was,  and  of  fallen  leaves  there  was  great 
plenty  therein.  Then  the  noise  of  the  men's  feet  and  the 
dogs'  came  upon  the  boar,  as  they  pressed  on  in  the 
chase,  and  forth  from  his  lair  he  sprang  towards  them  with 
his  back  well  bristled  and  fire  shining  in  his  eyes,  and  stood 
at  bay  before  them  all.  Then  Odysseus  was  the  first  to  rush 
in,  holding  his  spear  aloft  in  his  strong  hand,  most  keen 
to  smite;  but  the  boar  was  too  quick  for  him  and  struck 
him  above  the  knee,  ripping  through  much  flesh  with  his 
tusk  as  he  charged  sideways,  but  he  reached  not  to  the  bone 
of  the  man.  Then  Odysseus  aimed  well  and  smote  him  on 
his  right  shoulder,  so  that  the  point  of  the  bright  spear  went 
clean  through,  and  the  boar  fell  in  the  dust  with  a  cry,  and 
his  life  passed  from  him.  Then  the  dear  sons  of  Autolycus 
began  to  busy  them  with  the  carcase,  and  as  for  the  wound 
of  the  noble  godlike  Odysseus,  they  bound  it  up  skilfully,  and 
stayed  the  black  blood  with  a  song  of  healing,  and  straight- 
way returned  to  the  house  of  their  dear  father.  Then  Auto- 
lycus and  the  sons  of  Autolycus  got  him  well  healed  of  his 


ODVSSEV  XIX,  460-490.  325 

wound,  and  gave  him  splendid  gifts,  and  quickly  sent  him 
with  all  love  to  Ithaca,  gladly  speeding  a  glad  guest.  There 
his  father  and  lady  mother  were  glad  of  his  returning,  and 
asked  him  of  all  his  adventures,  and  of  his  wound  how  he 
came  by  it,  and  duly  he  told  them  all,  namely,  how  the  boar 
gashed  him  with  his  white  tusk  in  the  chase,  when  he  had 
gone  to  Parnassus  with  the  sons  of  Autolycus. 

Now  the  old  woman  took  the  scarred  limb  and  passed  her 
hands  down  it,  and  knew  it  by  the  touch  and  let  the  foot 
drop  suddenly,  so  that  the  knee  fell  into  the  bath,  and  the 
brazen  vessel  rang,  being  turned  over  on  the  other  side,  and 
behold,  the  water  was  spilled  on  the  ground.  Then  grief 
and  joy  came  on  her  in  one  moment,  and  both  her  eyes  filled 
up  with  tears,  and  the  voice  of  her  utterance  was  stayed,  and 
touching  the  chin  of  Od^^sseus  she  spake  to  him,  saying : 

*  Yea  verily,  thou  art  Odysseus,  my  dear  child,  and  I  knew 
thee  not  before,  till  I  had  handled  all  the  body  of  my  lord/ 

Therewithal  she  looked  towards  Penelope,  as  minded  to 
make  a  sign  that  her  husband  was  now  home.  But  Penelope 
could  not  meet  her  eyes  nor  take  note  of  her,  for  Athene 
had  bent  her  thoughts  to  other  things.  But  Odysseus  feeling 
for  the  old  woman's  throat  seized  it  with  his  right  hand  and 
with  the  other  drew  her  closer  to  him  and  spake  saying : 

*  Woman,  why  wouldest  thou  indeed  destroy  me?  It 
was  thou  that  didst  nurse  me  there  at  thine  own  breast, 
and  now  after  travail  and  much  pain  I  am  come  in  the 
twentieth  year  to  mine  own  country.  But  since  thou  art 
ware  of  me,  and  the  god  has  put  this  in  thy  heart,  be  silent, 
lest  another  learn  the  matter  in  the  halls.  For  on  this  wise  I 
will  declare  it,  and  it  shall  surely  be  accomplished : — if  the 
gods  subdue  the  lordly  wooers  unto  me,  I  will  not  hold  my 
hand  from  thee,  my  nurse  though  thou  art,  when  I  slay  the 
other  handmaids  in  my  iialls.' 


326  ODYSSEY  XIX,  491-523. 

Then  wise  Eurycleia  answered,  saying :  *  My  child,  what 
word  hath  escaped  the  door  of  thy  lips  ?  Thou  kncwest  how 
firm  is  my  spirit  and  unyielding,  and  I  will  keep  me  close  as 
hard  stone  or  iron.  Yet  another  thing  will  I  tell  thee,  and 
do  thou  ponder  it  in  thine  heart.  If  the  gods  subdue  the 
lordly  wooers  to  thy  hand,  then  will  I  tell  thee  all  the  tale  of 
the  women  in  the  halls,  which  of  them  dishonour  thee  and 
which  be  guiltless.* 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying  : 
*  Nurse,  wherefore  I  pray  thee  wilt  thou  speak  of  these? 
Thou  needest  not,  for  even  I  myself  will  mark  them  well  and 
take  knowledge  of  each.  Nay,  do  thou  keep  thy  saying  to 
thyself,  and  leave  the  rest  to  the  gods.* 

Even  so  he  spake,  and  the  old  woman  passed  forth  from 
the  hall  to  bring  water  for  his  feet,  for  that  first  water  was  all 
spilled.  So  when  she  had  washed  *him  and  anointed  him 
well  with  olive-oil,  Odysseus  again  drew  up  his  settle  nearer 
to  the  fire  to  warm  himself,  and  covered  up  the  scar  with  his 
rags.    Then  the  wise  Penelope  spake  first,  saying : 

*  Stranger,  there  is  yet  a  litde  thing  I  will  make  bold  to  ask 
thee,  for  soon  will  it  be  the  hour  for  pleasant  rest,  for  him  on 
whomsoever  sweet  sleep  falls,  though  he  be  heavy  with  care. 
But  to  me  has  the  god  given  sorrow,  yea  sorrow  measureless, 
for  all  the  day  I  have  my  fill  of  wailing  and  lamenting,  as  I 
look  to  mine  own  housewiferies  and  to  the  tasks  of  the 
maidens  in  the  house.  But  when  night  comes  and  sleep 
takes  hold  of  all,  I  lie  on  my  couch,  and  shrewd  cares,  thick 
thronging  about  my  inmost  heart,  disquiet  me  in  my  sorrow- 
ing Even  as  when  the  daughter  of  Pandareus,  the  brown 
bright  nightingale,  sings  sweet  in  the  first  season  of  the 
spring,  from  her  place  in  the  thick  leafage  of  the  trees,  and 
with  many  a  turn  and  trill  she  pours  forth  her  full-voiced 
music  bewailing  her  child,  dear  Itylus,  whom  on  a  time  she 


ODYSSEY  XIX,  ^^Z-^S?^, 327 

slew  with  the  sword  unwitting,  Itylus  the  son  of  Zethus  the 
prince ;  even  as  her  song,  my  troubled  soul  sways  to  and  fro. 
Shall  I  abide  with  my  son,  and  keep  all  secure,  all  the  things 
of  my  getting,  my  thralls  and  great  high-roofed  home,  having 
respect  unto  the  bed  of  my  lord  and  the  voice  of  the  people, 
or  even  now  follow  with  the  best  of  the  Achaeans  that  woos 
me  in  the  halls,  and  gives  a  bride-price  beyond  reckoning  ? 
Now  my  son,  so  long  as  he  was  a  child  and  light  of  heart, 
would  not  suffer  me  to  marry  and  leave  the  house  of  my 
husband ;  but  now  that  he  is  great  of  growth,  and  is  come  to 
the  full  measure  of  manhood,  even  now  he  prays  me  to  go 
back  again  from  these  halls,  being  vexed  for  his  possessions 
that  the  Achaeans  devour  before  his  eyes.  But  come  now, 
hear  a  dream  of  mine  and  tell  me  the  interpretation  thereof. 
Twenty  geese  I  have  in  the  house,  that  eat  wheat  out  of  the 
water-trough,  and  it  gladdens  me  to  look  on  them.  Now 
a  great  eagle  of  crooked  beak  came  forth  from  the  mountain, 
and  brake  all  their  necks  and  slew  them ;  and  they  lay 
strewn  in  a  heap  in  the  halls,  while  he  was  borne  aloft 
to  the  bright  air.  Thereon  I  wept  and  wailed,  in  a  dream 
though  it  was,  and  around  me  were  gathered  the  fair-tressed 
Achaean  women  as  I  made  piteous  lament,  for  that  the  eagle 
had  slain  my  geese.  But  he  came  back  and  sat  him  down 
on  a  jutting  point  of  the  roof-beam,  and  with  the  voice  of 
a  man  he  spake,  and  stayed  my  weeping  : 

*  "  Take  heart,  O  daughter  of  renowned  Icarius ;  this  is 
no  dream  but  a  true  vision,  that  shall  be  accomplished  for 
thee.  The  geese  are  the  wooers,  and  I  that  before  was  the 
eagle  am  now  thy  husband  come  again,  who  will  let  slip 
unsightly  death  upon  all  the  wooers."  With  that  word  sweet 
slumber  let  me  go,  and  I  looked  about,  and  beheld  the  geese 
in  the  court  devouring  the  wheat  by  the  trough,  where  they 
had  been  before.' 


328  ODYSSEY  XIX,  554-587. 


Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  and  said : 
'  Lady,  none  may  turn  aside  the  dream  to  interpret  it  other- 
wise, seeing  that  Odysseus  himself  is  showing  thee  how  he 
will  fulfil  it.  For  the  wooers  destruction  is  clearly  boded,  for 
all  and  every  one ;  not  a  man  shall  avoid  death  and  the  fates/ 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him :  *  Stranger,  verily 
dreams  are  hard,  and  hard  to  be  discerned ;  nor  are  all 
things  therein  fulfilled  for  men.  Twain  are  the  gates  of  sha- 
dowy dreams,  the  one  is  fashioned  of  horn  and  one  of  ivory. 
Such  dreams  as  pass  through  the  portals  of  sawn  ivory 
are  deceitful,  and  bear  tidings  that  are  unfulfilled.  But  the 
dreams  that  come  forth  through  the  gates  of  polished  horn 
bring  a  true  issue,  whosoever  of  mortals  beholds  them.  Yet 
methinks  my  strange  dream  came  not  thence;  of  a  truth 
that  would  be  most  welcome  to  me  and  to  my  son.  But 
another  thing  will  I  tell  thee,  and  do  thou  ponder  it  in  thy 
heart.  Lo,  even  now  draws  nigh  the  morn  of  evil  name, 
that  is  to  sever  me  from  the  house  of  Odysseus,  for  now 
I  am  about  to  ordain  for  a  trial  those  axes  that  he  was 
wont  to  set  up  in  his  halls,  like  the  stays  of  oak  in  ship- 
building, twelve  in  all,  and  he  would  stand  far  apart  and  shoot 
his  arrow  through  them  all".  And  now  I  will  offer  this 
contest  to  the  wooers :  whoso  shall  most  easily  string  the 
bow  in  his  hands,  and  shoot  through  all  twelve  axes,  with 
him  will  I  go  and  forsake  this  house,  this  honourable  house, 
so  very  fair  and  filled  with  all  livelihood,  which  methinks 
I  shall  yet  remember,  aye,  in  a  dream.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  and  said : 
'  Wife  revered  of  Odysseus  son  of  Laertes,  no  longer  delay 
this  contest  in  thy  halls ;  for,  lo,  Odysseus  of  many  counsels 
will  be  here,  before  these  men,  for  all  their  handling  of  the 
polished  bow,  shall  have  strung  it,  and  shot  the  arrow  through 
the  iron/ 


ODYSSEY  XIX,  588-604.  329 

Then  the  wise  Penelope  answered  him :  *  Stranger,  if  only 
thou  wert  willing  still  to  sit  beside  me  in  the  halls  and  to 
delight  me,  not  upon  my  eyelids  would  sleep  be  shed.  But 
men  may  in  no  wise  abide  sleepless  ever,  for  the  immortals 
have  made  a  time  for  all  things  for  mortals  on  the  earth,  the 
graingiver.  Howbeit  will  go  aloft  to  my  upper  chamber, 
and  lay  me  on  my  bed,  the  place  of  my  groanings,  that  is 
ever  watered  by  my  tears,  since  the  day  that  Odysseus  went 
to  see  that  evil  Ilios,  never  to  be  named.  There  will  I  lay 
me  down,  but  do  thou  lie  in  this  house ;  either  strew  thee 
somewhat  on  the  floor,  or  let  them  lay  bedding  for  thee.' 

Therewith  she  ascended  to  her  shining  upper  chamber, 
not  alone,  for  with  her  likewise  went  her  handmaids.  So  she 
went  aloft  to  her  upper  chamber  with  the  women  her  hand- 
maids, and  there  was  bewailing  Odysseus,  her  dear  lord,  till 
grey-eyed  Athene  cast  sweet  sleep  upon  her  eyelids. 


BOOK  XX. 

Pallas  and  Odysseus  consult  of  the  killing  of  the  wooers. 

Now  the  goodly  Odysseus  laid  him  down  to  sleep  in  the 
outer  gallery  of  the  house.  He  spread  an  undressed  bull's 
hide  on  the  ground  and  above  it  many  fleeces  of  sheep,  that 
the  Achaeans  were  wont  to  slay  in  sacrifice,  and  Eurynome 
threw  a  mantle  over  him  where  he  lay.  There  Odysseus  lay 
wakeful,  with  evil  thoughts  against  the  wooers  in  his  heart. 
And  the  women  they  came  forth  from  the  house,  that  afore- 
time were  wont  to  lie  with  the  wooers,  making  laughter  and 
mirth  among  themselves.  Then  the  heart  of  Odysseus  was 
stirred  within  his  breast,  and  much  he  communed  with  his 
mind  and  soul,  whether  he  should  leap  forth  upon  them  and 
deal  death  to  each,  or  suffer  them  to  lie  with  the  proud 
wooers,  now  for  the  last  and  latest  time.  And  his  heart 
growled  sullenly  within  him.  And  even  as  a  bitch  paces 
round  her  tender  whelps  growling,  when  she  spies  a  man  she 
knows  not,  and  she  is  eager  to  assail  him,  so  growled  his  heart 
within  him  in  his  wrath  at  their  evil  deeds.  Then  he  smote 
upon  his  breast  and  rebuked  his  own  heart,  saying : 

'  Endure,  my  heart;  yea,  a  baser  thing  thou  once  didst  bear, 
on  that  day  when  the  Cyclops,  unrestrained  in  fury,  devoured 
the  mighty  men  of  my  company ;  but  still  thou  didst  endure 
till  thy  craft  found  a  way  for  thee  forth  from  out  the  cave, 
where  thou  thoughtest  to  die.* 

So  spake  he,  chiding  his  own  spirit  within  him,  and  his 


ODYSSEY  XX,  23-53. 331 

heart  verily  abode  steadfast  in  obedience  to  his  word.  But 
Odysseus  himself  lay  tossing  this  way  and  that.  And  as 
when  a  man  by  a  great  fire  burning  takes  a  paunch  full 
of  fat  and  blood,  and  turns  it  this  way  and  that  and  longs 
to  have  it  roasted  most  speedily,  so  Odysseus  tossed  from 
side  to  side,  musing  how  he  might  stretch  forth  his  hands 
upon  the  shameless  wooers,  being  but  one  man  against  so 
many.  Then  down  from  heaven  came  Athene  and  drew 
nigh  him,  fashioned  in  the  likeness  of  a  woman.  And  she 
stood  over  his  head  and  spake  to  him,  saying : 

*  Lo  now  again,  wherefore  art  thou  watching,  most  luck- 
less of  all  men  living?  Is  not  this  thy  house  and  is  not 
thy  wife  there  within  and  thy  child,  such  a  son  as  men  wish 
to  have  for  their  own  ? ' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying: 
*  Yda,  goddess,  all  this  thou  hast  spoken  as  is  meet.  But 
my  heart  within  me  muses  in  some  measure  upon  this,  how 
I  may  stretch  forth  my  hands  upon  the  shameless  wooers, 
being  but  one  man,  while  they  abide  ever  in  their  com- 
panies within.  Moreover  this  other  and  harder  matter  I 
ponder  in  my  heart:  even  if  I  were  to  slay  them  by  thy 
will  and  the  will  of  Zeus,  whither  should  I  flee  from  the 
avengers }     Look  well  to  this,  I  pray  thee.' 

Then  answered  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene :  *  O  hard 
of  belief !  yea,  many  there  be  that  trust  even  in  a  weaker 
friend  than  I  am,  in  one  that  is  a  mortal  and  knows  not  such 
craft  as  mine ;  but  I  am  a  god,  that  preserve  thee  to  the  end, 
in  all  manner  of  toils.  And  now  I  will  tell  thee  plainly ;  even 
should  fifty  companies  of  mortal  men  compass  us  about 
eager  to  slay  us  in  battle,  even  their  kine  shouldst  thou  drive 
off  and  their  brave  flocks.  But  let  sleep  in  turn  come  over 
thee ;  to  wake  and  to  watch  all  night,  this  too  is  vexation  of 
spirit ;  and  soon  shalt  thou  rise  from  out  of  thy  troubles/ 


S3^  OD YSSE Y  XX,  54-84. 

So  she  spake  and  poured  slumber  upon  his  eyelids,  but 
for  her  part  the  fair  goddess  went  back  to  Olympus.    • 

While  sleep  laid  hold  of  him  loosening  the  cares  of  his 
soul,  sleep  that  loosens  the  limbs  of  men,  his  good  wife 
awoke  and  wept  as  she  sat  on  her  soft  bed.  But  when  she 
had  taken  her  fill  of  weeping,  to  Artemis  first  the  fair  lady 
made  her  prayer : 

*  Artemis,  lady  and  goddess,  daughter  of  Zeus,  would  that 
even  now  thou  wouldst  plant  thy  shaft  within  my  breast  and 
take  my  life  away,  even  in  this  hour  1  Or  again,  would  that 
the  stormwind  might  snatch  me  up,  and  bear  me  hence  down 
the  dusky  ways,  and  cast  me  forth  where  the  back-flowing 
Oceanus  mingles  with  the  sea.  It  should  be  even  as  when  the 
stormwinds  bare  away  the  daughters  of  Pandareus.  Their 
father  and  their  mother  the  gods  had  slain,  and  the  maidens 
were  left  orphans  in  the  halls,  and  fair  Aphrodite  cherished 
them  with  curds  and  sweet  honey  and  delicious  wine.  And 
Here  gave  them  beauty  and  wisdom  beyond  the  lot  of  women, 
and  holy  Artemis  dowered  them  with  stature,  and  Athene 
taught  them  skill  in  all  famous  handiwork.  Now  while  fair 
Aphrodite  was  wending  to  high  Olympus,  to  pray  that  a  glad 
marriage  might  be  accomplished  for  the  maidens, — and  to 
Zeus  she  went  whose  joy  is  in  the  thunder,  for  he  knows  all 
things  well,  what  the  fates  give  and  deny  to  mortal  men — 
in  the  meanwhile  the  spirits  of  the  storm  snatched  away 
these  maidens,  and  gave  them  to  be  handmaids  to  the  hateful 
Erinyes.  Would  that  in  such  wise  they  that  hold  the  man- 
sions of  Olympus  would  take  me  from  the  sight  of  men,  or 
that  fair-tressed  Artemis  would  strike  me,  that  so  with  a  vision 
of  Od3^sseus  before  mine  eyes  I  might  even  pass  beneath 
the  dreadful  earth,  nor  ever  make  a  baser  man's  delight ! 
But  herein  is  an  evil  that  may  well  be  borne,  namely,  when 
a  man  weeps  all  the  day  long  in  great  sorrow  of  heart,  but 


ODVSSEV  XX,  85-111.  ^^^ 

sleep  takes  him  in  the  night,  for  sleep  makes  him  forgetful  of 
all  things,  of  good  and  evil,  when  once  it  has  overshadowed 
his  eyelids.  But  as  for  me,  even  the  dreams  that  the  gods  send 
upon  me  are  evil.  For  furthermore,  this  very  night  one 
seemed  to  lie  by  my  side,  in  the  likeness  of  my  lord,  as  he 
was  when  he  went  with  the  host,  and  then  was  my  heart 
glad,  since  methought  it  was  no  vain  dream  but  a  clear 
vision  at  the  last.' 

So  she  spake,  and  anon  came  the  golden  throned  Dawn. 
Now  goodly  Odysseus  caught  the  voice  of  her  weeping,  and 
then  he  fell  a  musing,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  even  now 
she  knew  him  and  was  standing  by  his  head.  So  he  took 
up  the  mantle  and  the  fleeces  whereon  he  was  lying,  and  set 
them  on  a  high  seat  in  the  hall,  and  bare  out  the  bull's  hide 
out  of  doors  and  laid  it  there,  and  lifting  up  his  hands  he 
prayed  to  Zeus: 

*  Father  Zeus,  if  ye  gods  of  your  good  will  have  led  me 
over  wet  and  dry,  to  mine  own  country,  after  ye  had  plagued 
me  sore,  let  some  one  I  pray  of  the  folk  that  are  waking 
show  me  a  word  of  good  omen  within,  and  without  let  some 
other  sign  be  revealed  to  me  from  Zeus.' 

So  he  spake  in  prayer,  and  Zeus,  the  counsellor,  heard 
him.  Straightway  he  thundered  from  shining  Olympus,  from 
on  high  from  the  place  of  clouds;  and  goodly  Odysseus 
was  glad.  Moreover  a  woman,  a  grinder  at  the  mill,  uttered 
a  voice  of  omen  from  within  the  house  hard  by,  where  stood 
the  mills  of  the  shepherd  of  the  people.  At  these  handmills 
twelve  women  in  all  were  wont  to  bestir  themselves,  making 
meal  of  barley  and  of  wheat,  the  marrow  of  men.  Now  all 
the  others  were  asleep,  for  they  had  ground  out  their  task  of 
grain,  but  this  one  alone  rested  not  yet,  being  the  weakest  of 
all.  She  now  stayed  her  quern  and  spake  a  word,  a  sign  to 
her  lord : 


.^34  ODYSSEY  XX,  II2-141. 

'  Father  Zeus,  who  rulest  over  gods  and  men,  loudly  hast 
thou  thundered  from  the  starry  sky,  yet  nowhere  is  there  a 
cloud  to  be  seen :  this  surely  is  a  portent  thou  art  showing  to 
some  mortal.  Fulfil  now,  I  pray  thee,  even  to  miserable  me, 
the  word  that  I  shall  speak.  May  the  wooers,  on  this  day, 
for  the  last  and  latest  time  make  their  sweet  feasting  in  the 
halls  of  Odysseus !  They  that  have  loosened  my  knees  with 
cruel  toil  to  grind  their  barley  meal,  may  they  now  sup  their 
last!' 

Thus  she  spake,  and  goodly  Odysseus  was  glad  in  the 
omen  of  the  voice  and  in  the  thunder  of  Zeus ;  for  he 
thought  that  he  had  gotten  his  vengeance  on  the  guilty. 

Now  the  other  maidens  in  the  fair  halls  of  Odysseus  had 
gathered,  and  were  kindling  on  the  hearth  the  never-resting 
fire.  And  Telemachus  rose  from  his  bed,  a  godlike  man 
and  put  on  his  raiment,  and  slung  a  sharp  sword  about 
his  shoulders,  and  beneath  his  shining  feet  he  bound  his 
goodly  sandals.  And  he  caught  up  his  mighty  spear  shod 
with  sharp  bronze,  and  went  and  stood  by  the  threshold,  and 
spake  to  Eurycleia : 

'Dear  nurse,  have  ye  honoured  our  guest  in  the  house 
with  food  and  couch,  or  does  he  lie  uncared  for,  as  he  may  ? 
For  this  is  my  mother's  way,  wise  as  she  is  :  blindly  she 
honours  one  of  mortal  men,  even  the  worse,  but  the  better 
she  sends  without  honour  away.' 

•  Then  the  prudent  Eurycleia  answered :  *  Nay,  my  child, 
thou  shouldst  not  now  blame  her  where  no  blame  is.  For 
the  stranger  sat  and  drank  wine,  so  long  as  he  would, 
and  of  food  he  said  he  was  no  longer  fain,  for  thy  mother 
asked  him.  Moreover,  against  the  hour  when  he  should 
bethink  him  of  rest  and  sleep,  she  bade  the  maidens  strew 
for  him  a  bed.  But  he,  as  one  utterly  wretched  and  ill-fated, 
refused  to  lie  on  a  couch  and  under  blankets,  but  on  an 


ODVSSEV  XX,   142-174.  335 

undressed  hide  and  on  the  fleeces  of  sheep  he  slept  in  the 
outer  gallery,  and  we  cast  a  mantle  over  him.* 

So  she  spake,  and  Telemachus  passed  out  through  the 
hall  with  his  lance  in  his  hand,  and  two  fleet  dogs  bare  him 
company.  He  went  on  his  way  to  the  assembly-place  to  join 
the  goodly-greaved  Achaeans.  But  the  good  lady  Eurycleia, 
daughter  of  Ops  son  of  Peisenor,  called  aloud  to  her 
maidens : 

'  Come  hither,  let  some  of  you  go  busily  and  sweep  the 
hall,  and  sprinkle  it,  and  on  the  fair-fashioned  seats  throw 
purple  coverlets,  and  others  with  sponges  wipe  all  the  tables 
clean,  and  cleanse  the  mixing  bowls  and  well-wrought  double 
beakers,  and  others  again  go  for  water  to  the  well,  and  return 
with  it  right  speedily.  For  the  wooers  will  not  long  be  out 
of  the  hall  but  will  return  very  early,  for  it  is  a  feast  day, 
yea  for  all  the  people.' 

So  she  spake,  and  they  all  gave  ready  ear  and  hearkened. 
Twenty  of  them  went  to  the  well  of  dark  water,  and  the 
others  there  in  the  halls  were  busy  with  skilful  hands. 

Then  in  came  the  serving-men  of  the  Achaeans.  Thereon 
they  cleft  the  faggots  well  and  cunningly,  while,  behold,  the 
women  came  back  from  the  well.  Then  the  swineherd 
joined  them  leading  three  fatted  boars,  the  best  in  all  the 
flock.  These  he  left  to  feed  at  large  in  the  fair  courts,  but 
as  for  him  he  spake  to  Odysseus  gently,  saying : 

*  Tell  me,  stranger,  do  the  Achaeans  at  all  look  on  thee 
With  more  regard,  or  do  they  dishonour  thee  in  the  halls,  as 
heretofore  ?  * 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying : 

*  Oh,  that  the  gods,  Eumaeus,  may  avenge  the  scorn  where- 
with these  men  deal  insolently,  and  devise  infatuate  deeds  in 
another's  house,  and  know  no  touch  of  shame!* 

On  such  wise  they  spake  one  to  another.    And  Melanthius 


33^  ODYSSEY  XX,  174-202. 

drew  near  them,  the  goatherd,  leading  the  goats  that  were 
most  excellent  in  all  the  herds  to  be  a  dinner  for  the  wooers, 
and  two  shepherds  bare  him  company.  So  he  tethered  the 
goats  beneath  the  echoing  corridor,  and  himself  spake  to 
Odysseus  and  taunted  him,  saying : 

'Stranger,  wilt  thou  still  be  a  plague  to  us  here  in  the 
hall,  with  thy  begging  of  men,  and  wilt  not  get  thee  gone  ? 
In  no  wise  do  I  think  we  twain  will  be  sundered,  till  we  taste 
each  the  other's  fists,  for  thy  begging  is  out  of  all  order. 
Also  there  are  elsewhere  other  feasts  of  the  Achaeans.' 

So  he  spake,  but  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him 
not  a  word,  but  in  silence  he  shook  his  head,  brooding  evil, 
in  the  deep  of  his  heart. 

Moreover  a  third  man  came  up,  Philoetius,  a  master  of 
men,  leading  a  barren  heifer  for  the  wooers  and  fatted  goats. 
Now  ferrymen  had  brought  them  over  from  the  mainland, 
boatmen  who  send  even  other  folks  on  their  way,  whosoever 
comes  to  them.  The  cattle  he  tethered  carefully  beneath 
the  echoing  corridor,  and  himself  drew  close  to  the  swine- 
herd, and  began  to  question  him  : 

'  Swineherd,  who  is  this  stranger  but  newly  come  to  our 
house  ?  From  what  men  does  he  claim  his  birth  ?  Where  are 
his  kin  and  his  native  fields  ?  Hapless  is  he,  yet  in  fashion 
he  is  like  a  royal  lord ;  but  the  gods  mar  the  goodliness  of 
wandering  men,  when  even  for  kings  they  have  woven  the 
web  of  trouble.' 

So  he  spake,  and  came  close  to  him  offering  his  right 
hand  in  welcome,  and  uttering  his  voice  spake  to  him 
winged  words: 

'  Father  and  stranger,  hail !  may  happiness  be  thine  in  the 
time  to  come ;  but  as  now,  thou  art  fast  holden  in  many 
sorrows !  Father  Zeus,  none  other  god  is  more  baneful  than 
thou ;  thou  hast  no  compassion  on  men,  that  are  of  thine 


ODYSSEY  XX,   202-232.  T^o^'J 

own  begetting,  but  makest  them  to  have  fellowship  with  evil 
and  with  bitter  pains.  The  sweat  brake  out  on  me  when  I 
beheld  him,  and  mine  eyes  stand  full  of  tears  for  memory  of 
Odysseus,  for  he  too,  methinks,  is  clad  in  such  vile  raiment  as 
this,  and  is  wandering  among  men,  if  haply  he  yet  lives  and 
sees  the  sunlight.  But  if  he  be  dead  already  and  in  the 
house  of  Hades,  then  woe  is  me  for  the  noble  Odysseus,  who 
set  me  over  his  cattle  while  I  was  but  a  lad  in  the  land  of  the 
Cephallenians.  And  now  these  wax  numberless ;  in  no  better 
wise  could  the  breed  of  broad-browed  cattle  of  any  mortal 
increase,  even  as  the  ears  of  corn.  But  strangers  command 
me  to  be  ever  driving  these  for  themselves  to  devour,  and 
they  care  nothing  for  the  heir  in  the  house,  nor  tremble  at 
the  vengeance  of  the  gods,  for  they  are  eager  even  now  to 
divide  among  themselves  the  possessions  of  our  lord  who  is 
long  afar.  Now  my  heart  within  my  breast  often  revolves 
this  thing.  Truly  it  were  an  evil  deed,  while  a  son  of  the 
master  is  yet  alive,  to  get  me  away  to  the  land  of  strangers, 
and  go  off,  with  cattle  and  all,  to  alien  men.  But  this  is  more 
grievous  still,  to  abide  here  in  affliction  watching  over  the 
herds  of  other  men.  Yea,  long  ago  I  would  have  fled  and 
gone  forth  to  some  other  of  the  proud  kings,  for  things  are 
now  past  sufferance;  but  still  my  thought  is  of  that  hap- 
less one,  if  he  might  come  1  know  not  whence,  and  make  a 
scattering  of  the  wooers  in  the  halls.* 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying : 
*  Neatherd,  seeing  thou  art  not  like  to  an  evil  man  or  a 
foolish,  and  of  myself  I  mark  how  that  thou  hast  gotten 
understanding  of  heart,  therefore  I  will  tell  thee  somewhat, 
and  swear  a  great  oath  to  confirm  it.  Be  Zeus  now  my 
witness  before  any  god,  and  the  hospitable  board  and  the 
hearth  of  noble  Odysseus,  whereunto  I  am  come,  that  while 
thou  art  still  in  this  place  Odysseus  shall  come  home,  and 

X 


^^S  ODYSSEY  XX,  2^^-264. 

thou  shalt  see  with  thine  eyes,  if  thou  wilt,  the  slaying  of  the 
wooers  who  lord  it  here.* 

Then* the  neatherd  made  answer,  saying: 

*Ah,  would,  stranger,  that  Cronion  may  accomplish  this 
word  I  So  shouldst  thou  know  what  my  might  is,  and  how 
my  hands  follow  to  obey/ 

In  like  manner  Eumaeus  prayed  to  all  the  gods,  that  wise 
^  Odysseus  might  return  to  his  own  home. 
J  (  On  such  wise  they  spake  one  to  the  other,  but  the  wooers 
at  that  time  were  framing  death  and  doom  for  Telemachus. 
Even  so  there  came  by  them  a  bird  on  their  left,  an  eagle 
cf  lofty  flight,  with  a  cowering  dove  in  his  clutch.  Then 
Amphinomus  made  harangue  and  spake  among  them  : 

*  Friends,  this  counsel  of  ours  will  not  go  well,  namely,  the 
slaying  of  Telemachus;  rather  let  us  bethink  us  of  the  feast' 

So  spake  Amphinomus,  and  his  saying  pleased  them  well. 
They  passed  into  the  halls  of  godlike  Odysseus  and  laid  by 
their  mantles  on  the  chairs  and  high  seats,  and  sacrificed 
great  sheep  and  stout  goats  and  the  fallings  of  the  boars  and 
the  heifer  of  the  herd ;  then  they  roasted  the  entrails  and 
served  them  round  and  mixed  wine  in  the  bowl,  and  the 
swineherd  set  a  cup  by  each  man.  And  Philoetius,  a  master 
of  men,  handed  them  wheaten  bread  in  beautiful  baskets, 
and  Melanthius  poured  out  the  wine.  So  they  put  forth 
their  hands  on  the  good  cheer  set  before  them. 

Now  Telemachus,  in  his  crafty  purpose,  made  Odysseus 
to  sit  down  within  the  stablished  hall  by  the  threshold  of 
stone,  and  placed  for  him  a  mean  settle  and  a  little  table. 
He  set  by  him  his  mess  of  the  entrails,  and  poured  wine  into 
a  golden  cup  and  spake  to  him,  saying : 

*  There,  sit  thee  down,  drinking  thy  wine  among  the  lords, 
and  the  taunts  and  buffets  of  all  the  wooers  I  myself  will 
ward  off  from  thee,  for  this  is  no  house  of  public  resort. 


onvssEV  XX,  265-294.  339 

but  the  very  house  of  Odysseus,  and  for  me  he  won  it. 
But,  ye  wooers,  refrain  your  minds  from  rebukes  and  your 
hands  from  buffets,  that  no  strife  and  feud  may  arise.' 

So  he  said,  and  they  all  bit  their  lips  and  marvelled  at    y' 
Telemachus,  in  that  he  spake  boldly.     Then  Aniinous,  son 
of  Eupeithes,  spake  among  them,  saying  : 

*  Hard  though  the  word  be,  let  us  accept  it,  Achaeans,  even 
the  word  of  Telemachus,  though  mightily  he  threatens  us 
in  his  speech.  For  Zeus  Cronion  hath  hindered  us  of  our 
purpose,  else  would  we  have  silenced  him  in  pur  halls,  shrill 
orator  as  he  is.* 

So  spake  Antinous,  but  Telemachus  took  no  heed  of  his 
words.  Now  the  henchmen  were  leading  through  the  town 
the  holy  hecatomb  of  the  gods,  and  lo,  the  long-haired 
Achaeans  were  gathered  beneath  the  shady  grove  of  Apollo, 
the  prince  of  archery. 

Now  when  they  had  roasted  the  outer  flesh  and  drawn 
it  off  the  spits,  they  divided  the  messes  and  shared  the  glo- 
rious feast.  And  beside  Odysseus  they  that  waited  set  an 
equal  share,  the  same  as  that  which  fell  to  themselves, 
for  so  Telemachus  commanded,  the  dear  son  of  divine 
Odysseus. 

Now  Athene  would  in  nowise  suffer  the  lordly  wooers  to 
abstain  from  biting  scorn,  that  the  pain  might  sink  yet  the 
deeper  into  the  heart  of  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes.  There 
was  among  the  wooers  a  man  of  a  lawless  heart,  Ctesippus 
was  his  name,  and  in  Same  was  his  home,  who  trusting, 
forsooth,  to  his  vast  possessions,  was  wooing  the  wife  of 
Odysseus  the  lord  long  afar.  And  now  he  spake  among 
the  proud  wooers : 

*Hear  me,  ye  lordly  wooers,  and  I  will  say  somewhat. 
The  stranger  verily  has  long  had  his  due  portion,  as  is  meet, 
an  equal  share ;  for  it  is  not  fair  nor  just  to  rob  the  guests 

z  2 


340  ODYSSEY  XX,  295-324, 

of  Telemachus  of  their  right,  whosoever  they  may  be  that 
come  to  this  house.  Go  to  then,  I  also  will  bestow  On  him 
a  stranger's  gift,  that  he  in  turn  may  give  a  present  either 
to  the  bath-woman,  or  to  any  other  of  the  thralls  within  the 
house  of  godlike  Odysseus.' 

Therewith  he  caught  up  an  ox's  foot  from  the  dish,  where 
it  lay,  and  hurled  it  with  strong  hand.  But  Odysseus  lighdy 
avoided  it  with  a  turn  of  his  head,  and  smiled  right  grimly 
in  his  heart,  and  the  ox's  foot  smote  the  well-builded  wall. 
Then  Telemachus  rebuked  Ctesippus,  saying : 

*  Verily,  Ctesippus,  it  has  turned  out  happier  for  thy  heart's 
pleasure  as  it  is !  Thou  didst  not  smite  the  stranger,  for  he 
himself  avoided  that  which  was  cast  at  him,  else  surely  would 
I  have  struck  thee  through  the  midst  with  the  sharp  spear, 
and  in  place  of  wedding  banquet  thy  father  would  have  had 
to  busy  him  about  a  funeral  fea^t  in  this  place.  Wherefore 
let  no  man  make  show  of  unseemly  deeds  in  this  my  house, 
for  now  I  have  understanding  to  discern  both  good  and 
evil,  but  in  time  past  I  was  yet  a  child.  But  as  needs  we 
must,  we  siill  endure  to  see  these  deeds,  while  sheep  are 
slaughtered  and  wine  drunken  and  bread  devoured,  for  hard 
it  is  for  one  man  to  restrain  many.  But  come,  no  longer 
work  me  harm  out  of  an  evil  heart ;  but  if  ye  be  set  on 
slaying  me,  even  me,  with  the  sword,  even  that  would  I 
rather  endure,  and  far  better  would  it  be  to  die  than  to  wit- 
ness for  ever  these  unseemly  deeds — strangers  shamefully 
entreated,  and  men  haling  the  handmaidens  in  foul  wise 
through  the  fair  house.'  ^ 

So  he  spake,  and  they  were  all  hushed  in  silence.  And 
late  and  at  last  spake  among  them  Agelaus,  son  of  Damastor : 

'  Friends,  when  a  righteous  word  has  been  spoken,  none 
surely  would  rebuke  another  with  hard  speech  and  be  angry. 
Misuse  ye  not  this  stranger,  nor  any  of  the  thralls  that  are 


ODYSSEY  XX,  Z%S'?,S^'  341 

in  the  house  of  godlike  Odysseus.  But  to  Telemachus 
himself  I  would  speak  a  soft  word  and  to  his  mother,  if 
perchance  it  may  find  favour  with  the  mind  of  those  twain. 
So  long  as  your  hearts  within  you  had  hope  of  the  wise 
Odysseus  returning  to  his  own  house,  so  long  none  could 
be  wroth  that  ye  waited 'and  held  back  the  wooers  in  the  halls, 
for  better  had  it  been  if  Odysseus  had  returned  and  come 
back  to  his  own  home.  But  now  the  event  is  plain,  that  he 
will  return  no  more.  Go  then,  sit  by  thy  mother  and  tell 
her  all,  namely,  that  she  must  wed  the  best  man  that  wooes 
her,  and  whoso  gives  most  gifts ;  so  shalt  thou  with  gladness 
live  on  the  heritage  of  thy  father,  eating  and  drinking,  while 
she  cares  for  another's  house.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered,  and  said:  'Nay  by 
Zeus,  Agelaus,  and  by  the  griefs  of  my  father,  who  far  away 
methinks  from  Ithaca  has  perished  or  goes  wandering,  in 
nowise  do  I  delay  my  mother's  marriage ;  nay,  I  bid  her  be 
married  to  what  man  she  will,  and  withal  I  offer  gifts  without 
number.  But  I  do  indeed  feel  shame  to  drive  her  forth  from 
the  hall,  despite  her  will,  by  a  word  of  compulsion ;  God 
forbid  that  ever  this  should  be.' 

So  spake  Telemachus,  but  among  the  wooers  Pallas 
Athene  roused  laughter  unquenchable,  and  drave  their  wits 
wandering.  And  now  they  were  laughing  with  alien  lips, 
and  blood-bedabbled  was  the  flesh  they  ate,  and  their  eyes 
were  filled  with  tears  and  their  soul  was  fain  of  lamentation. 
Then  the  godlike  Theoclymenus  spake  among  them : 

*  Ah,  wretched  men,  what  woe  is  this  ye  sufi"er  ?  Shrouded 
in  night  are  your  heads  and  your  faces  and  your  knees,  and 
kindled  is  the  voice  of  wailing,  and  all  cheeks  are  wet  with 
tears,  and  the  walls  and  the  fair  spaces  between  the  pillars 
are  sprinkled  with  blood  ^^  And  the  porch  is  full,  and  full 
is  the  court,  of  ghosts  that  hasten  hellwards  beneath  the 


34«  ODYSSEY  XX,  ZS^-^H^ 

gloom,  and  the  sun  has  perished  out  of  heaven,  and  an  evil 
mist  has  overspread  the  world.' 

So  spake  he,  and  they  all  laughed  sweetly  at  him.  Then 
Eurymachus,  son  of  Polybus,  began  to  speak  to  them,  saying : 

'  The  guest  that  is  newly  come  from  a  strange  land  is 
beside  himself.  Quick,  ye  young  men,  and  convey  him 
forth  out  of  doors,  that  he  may  go  to  the  place  of  the 
gathering,  since  here  he  finds  it  dark  as  night.' 

Then  godlike  Theoclymenus  answered  him :  '  Eurymachus, 
in  nowise  do  I  seek  guides  of  thee  to  send  me  on  my  way. 
Eyes  have  I,  and  ears,  and  both  my  feet,  and  a  stable  mind 
in  my  breast  of  no  mean  fashioning.  With  these  I  will  go 
forth,  for  I  see  evil  coming  on  you,  which  not  one  man  of 
the  wooers  may  avoid  or  shun,  of  all  you  who  in  the  house 
of  divine  Odysseus  deal  insolently  with  men  and  devise 
infatuate  deeds.' 

Therewith  he  went  forth  from  out  the  fair-lying  halls,  and 
came  to  Peiraeus  who  received  him  gladly.  Then  all  the 
wooers,  looking  one  at  the  other,  provoked  Telemachus  to 
anger,  laughing  at  his  guests.  And  thus  some  one  of  the 
haughty  youths  would  speak  ; 

*  Telemachus,  no  man  is  more  luckless  than  thou  in  his 
guests,  seeing  thou  keepest  such  a  filthy  wanderer,  whosoever 
he  be,  always  longing  for  bread  and  wine,  and  skilled  in  no 
peaceful  work  nor  any  deed  of  war,  but  a  mere  burden  of 
the  earth.  And  this  other  fellow  again  must  stand  up  to 
play  the  seer !  Nay,  but  if  thou  wouldest  listen  to  me,  much 
better  it  were.  Let  us  cast  these  strangers  on  board  a 
benched  ship,  and  send  them  to  the  Sicilians,  whence  they 
would  fetch  thee  their  price*.' 

*  Reading  a\<l>oiv,  which  is  a  correction.  Or  keeping  the  MSS.  aX^oi, 
*and  this  should  bring  thee  in  a  goodly  price,'  the  subject  to  d\<poi  beings 
probably,  the  sale,  which  is  suggested  by  the  context. 


ODYSSEY  XX,  384-394. 343 

So  spake  the  wooers,  but  he  heeded  not  their  words; 
in  silence  he  looked  towards  his  father,  expecting  evermore 
the  hour  when  he  should  stretch  forth  his  hands  upon  the 
shameless  wooers. 

Now  the  daughter  of  Icarius,  wise  Penelope,  had  set  her 
fair  chair  over  against  them,  and  heard  the  words  of  each  one 
of  the  men  in  the  halls.  For  in  the  midst  of  laughter  they 
had  got  ready  the  midday  meal,  a  sweet  meal  and  abundant, 
for  they  had  sacrificed  many  cattle.  But  never  could  there 
be  a  banquet  less  gracious  than  that  supper,  such  an  one 
as  the  goddess  and  the  brave  man  were  soon  to  spread  for 
them ;  for  that  they  had  begun  the  devices  of  shame. 


BOOK  XXI. 

Penelope  bringeth  forth  her  husband's  bow,  which  the  suitors  could  not 
bend,  but  was  bent  by  Odysseus. 

Now  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  put  it  into  the  heart 
of  the  daughter  of  Icarius  wise  Penelope,  to  set  the  bow 
and  the  axes  of  grey  iron,  for  the  wooers  in  the  halls  of 
Odysseus,  to  be  the  weapons  of  the  contest,  and  the  begin- 
ning of  death.  So  she  climbed  the  tall  staircase  of  her 
chamber,  and  took  the  well-bent  key  in  her  strong  hand,  a 
goodly  key  of  bronze,  whereon  was  a  handle  of  ivory.  And 
she  betook  her,  with  her  handmaidens,  to  the  treasure- 
chamber  in  the  uttermost  part  of  the  house,  where  lay  the 
treasures  of  her  lord,  bronze  and  gold  and  well-wrought  iron. 
And  there  lay  the  back-bent  bow  and  the  quiver  for  the 
arrows,  and  many  shafts  were  therein,  winged  for  death, 
gifts  of  a  friend  of  Odysseus,  that  met  with  him  in  Lace- 
daemon,  Iphitus  son  of  Eurytus,  a  man  like  to  the  gods. 
These  twain  fell  in  with  one  another  in  Messene,  in  the 
house  of  wise  Ortilochus.  Now  Odysseus  had  gone  thither 
to  recover  somewhat  that  was  owing  to  him  from  all  the 
people,  for  the  men  of  Messene  had  lifted  three  hundred 
sheep  in  benched  ships  from  out  of  Ithaca,  with  the  shep- 
herds of  the  flock.  In  quest  of  these  it  was  that  Odysseus 
went  on  a  far  embassy,  being  yet.  a  lad ;  for  his  father  and 
the  other  elders  sent  him  forth.  Moreover,  Iphitus  came 
thither  in  his  search  for  twelve  brood  mares,  which  he  had 
lost,  with  sturdy  mules  at  the  teat     These  same  it  was  that 


ODYSSEY  XXI,  24-54.  345 

brought  him  death  and  destiny  in  the  latter  end,  when  he 
came  to  the  child  of  Zeus,  hardy  of  heart,  the  man  Heracles, 
that  had  knowledge  of  great  adventures,  who  smote  Iphitus 
though  his  guest  in  his  house,  in  bis  frowardness,  and 
had  no  regard  for  the  vengeance  of  the  gods,  nor  for  the 
table  which  he  spread  before  him.  Now  after  the  meal  he 
slew  him,  his  guest  though  he  was,  and  kept  for  himself  in 
the  halls  the  horses  strong  of  hoof.  After  these  was  Iphitus 
asking,  when  he  met  with  Odysseus,  and  he  gave  him  the 
bow,  which  of  old  great  Eurytus  bare  and  had  left  at  his 
death  to  his  son  in  his  lofty  house.  And  Odysseus  gave 
Iphitus  a  sharp  sword  and  a  mighty  spear,  for  the  beginning 
of  a  loving  friendship ;  but  never  had  they  acquaintance  one 
of  another  at  the  board  ;  ere  that  might  be,  the  son  of  Zeus 
slew  Iphitus  son  of  Eurytus,  a  man  like  to  the  immortals,  the 
same  that  gave  Odysseus  the  bow.  But  goodly  Odysseus 
would  never  take  it  with  him  on  the  black  ships,  as  he  went 
to  the  wars,  but  the  bow  was  laid  by  at  home  in  the  halls  as 
a  memorial  of  a  dear  guest,  and  he  carried  it  on  his  own 
land. 

Now  when  the  fair  lady  had  come  even  to  the  treasure- 
chamber,  and  had  stept  upon  the  threshold  of  oak,  which  the 
carpenter  had  on  a  time  planed  cunningly,  and  over  it  had 
made  straight  the  line, — doorposts  also  had  he  fitted  thereby, 
whereon  he  set  shining  doors, — anon  she  quickly  loosed  the 
strap  from  the  handle  of  the  door,  and  thrust  in  the  key,  and 
with  a  straight  aim  shot  back  the  bolts.  And  even  as  a  bull 
roars  that  is  grazing  in  a  meadow,  so  mightily  roared  the  fair 
doors  smitten  by  the  key;  and  speedily  they  flew  open 
before  her.  Then  she  stept  on  to  the  high  floor,  where  the 
coffers  stood,  wherein  the  fragrant  raiment  was  stored. 
Thence  she  stretched  forth  her  hand,  and  took  the  bow  from 
off  the  pin,  all  in  the  bright  case  which  sheathed  it  around. 


34^  ODYSSEY  XXI,  55-8^. 

And  there  she  sat  down,  and  set  the  case  upon  her  knees, 
and  cried  aloud  and  wept,  and  took  out  the  bow  of  her 
lord.  Now  when  she  had  her  fill  of  tearful  lament,  she 
set  forth  to  go  to  the  hall  to  the  company  of  the  proud 
wooers,  with  the  back-bent  bow  in  her  hands,  and  the  quiver 
for  the  arrows,  and  many  shafts  were  therein  winged  for 
death.  And  her  maidens  along  with  her  bare  a  chest, 
wherein  lay  much  store  of  iron  and  bronze,  the  gear  of 
combat  of  their  lord.  Now  when  the  fair  lady  had  come 
unto  the  wooers,  she  stood  by  the  doorpost  of  the  well- 
builded  roof,  holding  up  her  glistening  tire  before  her  face; 
and  a  faithful  maiden  stood  on  either  side  of  her,  and 
straightway  she  spake  out  among  the  wooers  and  declared 
her  word,  saying : 

*  Hear  me,  ye  lordly  wooers,  that  have  vexed  this  house, 
that  ye  might  eat  and  drink  here  evermore,  forasmuch  as 
the  master  is  long  gone,  nor  could  ye  find  any  other  mark  * 
for  your  speech,  but  all  your  desire  was  to  wed  me  and 
take  me  to  wife.  Nay  come  now,  ye  wooers,  seeing  that 
this  is  the  prize  that  is  put  before  you.  I  will  set  forth  for 
you  the  great  bow  of  divine  Odysseus,  and  whoso  shall  most 
easily  string  the  bow  in  his  hands,  and  shoot  through  all 
twelve  axes,  with  him  will  I  go  and  forsake  this  house,  this 
honourable  house,  so  very  fair  and  filled  with  all  livelihood, 
which  methinks  I  shall  yet  remember,  aye,  in  a  dream.' 

So  spake  she,  and  commanded  Eumaeus,  the  goodly 
swineherd,  to  set  the  bow  for  the  wooers  and  the  axes  of 
grey  iron.     And  Eumaeus  took  them  with  tears,  and  laid 

♦  The  accepted  interpretation  of  tiriax«Tii]  (a  word  which  occurs  only 
here)  is  '  pretext' ;  but  this  does  not  agree  with  any  of  the  meanings  of  the 
verb  from  which  the  noun  is  derived.  The  usage  of  knexo^  in  Od.  xix.  71, 
xxii.  75,  of  eiriaxfiv  in  II.  xvii,  465,  and  of  kmax^ft^vos  in  Od.  xxii.  15, 
suggests  rather  for  imox'^oh  the  idea  of  'aiming  at  a  mark.' 


ODVSSEV  XXI,  83-1 T4.  347 

them  down;  and  otherwhere  the  neatherd  wept,  when  he 
beheld  the  bow  of  his  lord.  Then  Antinous  rebuked  them, 
and  spake  and  hailed  them : 

*  Foolish  boors,  whose  thoughts  look  not  beyond  the  day, 
ah,  wretched  pair,  wherefore  now  do  ye  shed  tears,  and  stir 
the  soul  of  the  lady  within  her,  when  her  heart  already  lies 
low  in  pain,  for  that  she  has  lost  her  dear  lord  ?  Nay  sit, 
and  feast  in  silence,  or  else  get  ye  forth  and  weep,  and  leave 
the  bow  here  behind,  to  be  a  terrible  contest  for  the  wooers, 
for  methinks  that  this  polished  bow  does  not  lightly  yield 
itself  to  be  strung.  For  there  is  no  man  among  all  these 
present  such  as  Odysseus  was,  and  I  myself  saw  him,  yea 
I  remember  it  well,  though  I  was  still  but  a  child.' 

So  spake  he,  but  his  heart  within  him  hoped  that  he 
would  string  the  bow,  and  shoot  through  the  iron.  Yet 
verily,  he  was  to  be  the  first  that  should  taste  the  arrow 
at  the  hands  of  the  noble  Odysseus,  whom  but  late  he  was 
dishonouring  as  he  sat  in  the  halls,  and  was  inciting  all  his 
fellows  to  do  likewise. 

Then  the  mighty  prince  Telemachus  spake  among  them, 
saying :  *  Lo  now,  in  very  truth,  Cronion  has  robbed  me  of 
my  wits !  My  dear  mother,  wise  as  she  is,  declares  that  she 
will  go  with  a  stranger  and  forsake  this  house  ;  yet  I  laugh 
and  in  my  silly  heart  I  am  glad.  Nay  come  now,  ye  wooers, 
seeing  that  this  is  the  prize  that  is  set  J^efore  you,  a  lady,  the 
like  of  whom  there  is  not  now  in  the  Achaean  land,  neither 
in  sacred  Pylos,  nor  in  Argos,  nor  in  Mycenae,  nor  yet  in 
Ithaca,  nor  in  the  dark  mainland.  Nay  but  ye  know  all  this 
yourselves, — why  need  I  praise  my  mother  ?  Come  there- 
fore, delay  not  the  issue  with  excuses,  nor  hold  much  longer 
aloof  from  the  drawing  of  the  bow,  that  we  may  see  the  thing 
that  is  to  be.  Yea  and  I  myself  would  make  trial  of  this 
bow.     If  I  shall  string  it,  and  shoot  through  the  iron,  my 


348  ODYSSEY  XXI,  115-142. 

lady  mother  will  not  quit  these  halls  to  my  grief,  and  go 
with  a  stranger  while  I  am  left  behind,  being  now  well  able 
to  lift  my  father's  goodly  gear  of  combat.' 

Therewith  he  cast  from  off  his  neck  his  cloak  of  scarlet, 
and  sprang  to  his  full  height,  and  put  away  the  sword  from 
his  shoulders.  First  he  dug  a  good  trench  and  set  up  the 
axes,  one  long  trench  for  them  all,  and  over  it  he  made 
straight  the  line  and  round  about  stamped  in  the  earth. 
And  amazement  fell  on  all  that  beheld  how  orderly  he  set 
the  axes,  though  never  before  had  he  seen  it  so.  Then  he 
went  and  stood  by  the  threshold  and  began  to  prove  the 
bow.  Thrice  he  made  it  to  tremble  in  his  great  desire  to 
draw  it,  and  thrice  he  rested  from  his  effort,  though  still  he 
hoped  in  his  heart  to  string  the  bow,  and  shoot  through 
the  iron.  And  now  at  last  he  might  have  strung  it, 
mightily  straining  thereat  for  the  fourth  time,  but  Odysseus 
nodded  frowning  and  stayed  him,  for  all  his  eagerness. 
Then  the  strong  prince  Telemachus  spake  among  them 
again : 

'  Lo  you  now,  even  to  the  end  of  my  days  I  shall  be  a 
coward  and  a  weakling,  or  it  may  be  I  am  too  young,  and 
have  as  yet  no  trust  in  my  hands  to  defend  me  from  such 
an  one  as  is  angry  with  me  without  a  cause.  But  come 
DOW,  ye  who  are  mightier  men  than  I,  essay  the  bow  and  let 
us  make  an  end  of  th^  contest.' 

Therewith  he  put  the  bow  from  him  on  the  ground, 
leaning  it  against  the  smooth  and  well-compacted  doors,  and 
the  swift  shaft  he  propped  hard  by  against  the  fair  bow-tip, 
and  then  he  sat  down  once  more  on  the  high  seat,  whence 
he  had  risen. 

Then  Antinous,  son  of  Eupeithes,  spake  among  them, 
saying:  'Rise  up  in  order,  all  my  friends,  beginning  from 
the  left,  even  from  the  place  whence  the  wine  is  poured.' 


ODYSSEY  XXI,  143-174-  349 

So  spake  Antinous,  and  the  saying  pleased  them  well. 
Then  first  stood  up  Leiodes,  son  of  Oenops,  who  was  their 
soothsayer  and  ever  sat  by  the  fair  mixing  bowl  at  the 
extremity  of  the  hall ;  he  alone  hated  their  infatuate  deeds 
and  was  indignant  with  all  the  wooers.  He  now  first  took 
the  bow  and  the  swift  shaft,  and  he  went  and  stood  by  the 
threshold,  and  began  to  prove  the  bow ;  but  he  could  not 
bend  it ;  or  ever  that  might  be,  his  hands  grew  weary  with 
the  straining,  his  unworn,  delicate  hands ;  so  he  spake  among 
the  wooers,  saying : 

'Friends,  of  a  truth  I  cannot  bend  it,  ^et  some  other  take  it. 
Ah,  many  of  our  brayest  shall  this  bow  rob  of  spirit  and  of 
life,  since  truly  it  is  far  better  for  us  to  die,  than  to  live  on  and 
to  fail  of  that  for  which  we  assemble  evermore  in  this  place, 
day  by  day  expecting  the  prize.  Many  there  be  even  now 
that  hope  in  their  hearts  and  desire  to  wed  Penelope,  the 
bedfellow  of  Odysseus :  but  when  such  an  one  shall  make 
trial  of  the  bow  and  see  the  issue,  thereafter  let  him  woo 
some  other  fair- robed  Achaean  woman  with  his  bridal  gifts 
and  seek  to  win  her.  So  may  our  lady  wed  the  man  that 
gives  most  gifts,  and  comes  as  the  chosen  of  fate.' 

So  he  spake,  and  put  from  him  the  bow  leaning  it  against 
the  smooth  and  well-compacted  doors,  and  the  swift  shaft 
he  propped  hard  by  against  the  fair  bow- tip,  and  then  he 
sat  down  once  more  on  the  high  seat,  whence  he  had  risen. 

But  Antinous  rebuked  him,  and  spake  and  hailed  him: 
*  Leiodes,  what  word  hath  escaped  the  door  of  thy  lips ; 
a  hard  word,  and  a  grievous  ?  Nay,  it  angers  me  to  hear  it, 
and  to  think  that  a  bow  such  as  this  shall  rob  our  bravest  of 
spirit  and  of  Hfe,  and  all  because  thou  canst  not  draw  it.  For 
I  tell  thee  that  thy  lady  mother  bare  thee  not  of  such  might 
as  to  draw  a  bow  and  shoot  arrows  :  but  there  be  others  of 
the  proud  wooers  that  shall  draw  it  soon.' 


^5^  ODYSSEY  XXI,   175-202. 


So  he  .ipake,  and  commanded  Melanthius,  the  goatherd, 
saying  :  '  Up  now,  light  a  fire  in  the  halls,  Melanthius ;  and 
place  a  great  settle  by  the  fire  and  a  fleece  thereon,  and 
bring  forth  a  great  ball  of  lard  that  is  within,  that  we  young 
men  may  warm  and  anoint  the  bow  therewith  and  prove  it, 
and  make  an  end  of  the  contest* 

So  he  spake,  and  Melanthius  soon  rekindled  the  never- 
resting  fire,  and  drew  up  a  settle  and  plaqed  it  near,  and  put 
a  fleece  thereon,  and  he  brought  forth  a  great  ball  of  lard 
that  was  within.  Therewith  the  young  men  warmed  the 
bow,  and  made  essay,  but  could  not  string  it,  for  they  were 
greatly  lacking  of  such  might.  But  Antinous  still  abode  in 
his  place  and  godlike  Eurymachus,  chief  men  among  the 
wooers,  who  were  far  the  most  excellent  of  all. 

Now  those  other  twain  had  gone  forth  both  together 
from  the  house,  the  neatherd  and  the  swineherd  of  godlike 
Odysseus ;  and  Odysseus  went  forth  after  them.  But 
when  they  had  now  passed  without  the  gates  and  the 
courtyard,  he  uttered  his  voice  and  spake  to  them  in  gentle 
words : 

*  Neatherd  and  thou  swineherd,  shall  I  say  somewhat  or 
keep  it  to  myself?  Nay,  my  spirit  bids  me  declare  it.  What 
manner  of  men  would  ye  be  to  help  Odysseus,  if  he  should 
come  thus  suddenly,  I  know  not  whence,  and  some  god  were 
to  bring  him .?  Would  ye  stand  on  the  side  of  the  wooers 
or  of  Odysseus?  Tell  me  even  as  your  heart  and  spirit 
bid  you.' 

Then  the  neatherd  answered  him,  saying :  *  Father  Zeus, 
if  but  thou  wouldst  fulfil  this  wish :  * — oh,  that  that  man 
might  come,  and  some  god  lead  him  hither !  So  shouldest 
thou  know  what  my  might  is,  and  how  my  hands  follow 
to  obey/ 

♦  Placing  a  colon  at  U\5o:p. 


ODYSSEY  XXI,  203-233.  351 

In  like  manner  Eumaeus  prayed  to  all  the  gods  that  wise 
Odysseus  might  return  to  his  own  home. 

Now  when  he  knew  for  a  surety  what  spirit  they  were  of, 
once  more  he  answered  and  spake  to  them,  saying : 

*  Behold,  home  am  I  come,  even  I ;  after  much  travail  and 
sore  am  I  come  in  the  twentieth  year  to  mine  own  country. 
And  I  know  how  that  my  coming  is  desired  by  you  alone  of 
all  my  thralls,  for  from  none  besides  have  I  heard  a  prayer 
that  I  might  return  once  more  to  my  home.  And  now  I 
will  tell  you  all  the  truth,  even  as  it  shall  come  to  pass.  If 
the  god  shall  subdue  the  proud  wooers  to  my  hands,  I  will 
bring  you  each  one  a  wife,  and  will  give  you  a  heritage  of 
your  own  and  a  house  builded  near  to  me,  and  ye  twain  shall 
be  thereafter  in  mine  eyes  as  the  brethren  and  companions 
of  Telemachus.  But  behold,  I  will  likewise  show  you  a  most 
manifest  token,  that  ye  may  know  me  well  and  be  certified 
in  heart,  even  the  wound  that  the  boar  dealt  me  with  his 
whiie  tusk  long  ago,  when  I  went  to  Parnassus  with  the  sons 
of  Autolycus.' 

Therewith  he  drew  aside  the  rags  from  the  great  scar. 
And  when  the  twain  had  beheld  it  and  marked  it  well, 
they  cast  their  arms  about  the  wise  Odysseus,  and  fell 
a  weeping ;  and  kissed  him  lovingly  on  head  and  shoulders. 
And  in  like  manner  Odysseus  too  kissed  their  heads  and 
hands.  And  now  would  the  sunlight  have  gone  down  upon 
their  sorrowing,  had  not  Odysseus  himself  stayed  them 
saying  : 

'  Cease  ye  from  weeping  and  lamentation,  lest  some  one 
come  forth  from  the  hall  and  see  us,  and  tell  it  likewise  in 
the  house.  Nay,  go  ye  within  one  by  one  and  not  both 
together,  I  first  and  you  following,  and  let  this  be  the  token 
between  us  All  the  rest,  as  many  as  are  proud  wooers, 
will  not  suflfer  that  I  should  be  given  the  bow  and  quiver; 


352  ODVSSEV  XXI,  234-255. 


do  thou  then,  goodly  Eumaeus,  as  thou  bearest  the  bow 
through  the  hall,  set  it  in  my  hands  and  speak "  to  the 
women  that  they  bar  the  well-fitting  doors  of  their  chamber. 
And  if  any  of  them  hear  the  sound  of  groaning  or  th^  din 
of  men  within  our  walls,  let  them  not  run  forth  but  abide 
where  they  are  in  silence  at  their  work.  But  on  thee,  goodly 
Philoetius,  I  lay  this  charge,  to  bolt  and  bar  the  outer  gate 
of  the  court  and  swiftly  to  tie  the  knot.' 

Therewith  he  passed  within  the  fair-lying  halls,  and  went 
and  sat  upon  the  settle  whence  he  had  risen.  And  likewise 
the  two  thralls  of  divine  Odysseus  went  within. 

And  now  Eurymachus  was  handling  the  bow,  warming  it 
on  this  side  and  on  that  at  the  light  of  the  fire ;  yet  even 
so  he  could  not  string  it,  and  in  his  great  heart  he  groaned 
mightily ;  and  in  heaviness  of  spirit  he  spake  and  called 
aloud,  saying: 

*  Lo  you  now,  truly  am  I  grieved  for  myself  and  for  you  all ! 
Not  for  the  marriage  do  I  mourn  so  greatly,  afflicted  though 
I  be ;  there  are  many  Achaean  women  besides,  some  in  sea- 
begirt  Ithaca  itself  and  some  in  other  cities.  Nay,  but  I 
grieve,  if  indeed  we  are  so  far  worse  than  godlike  Odysseus 
in  might,  seeing  that  we  cannot  bend  the  bow.  It  will  be 
a  shame  even  for  men  unborn  to  hear  thereof.' 

Then  Antinous,  son  of  Eupeithes,  answered  him :  *  Eury- 
machus, this  shall  not  be  so,  and  thou  thyself  too  knowest  it. 
For  to-day  the  feast  of  the  archer  god  is  held  in  the  land,  a 
holy  feast.  Who  at  such  a  time  would  be  bending  bows  ? 
Nay,  set  it  quietly  by ;  what  and  if  we  should  let  the  axes  all 
stand  as  they  are?  None  methinks  will  come  to  the  hall 
of  Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes,  and  carry  them  away.  Go  to 
now,  let  the  wine-bearer  pour  for  libation  into  each  cup  in 
turn,  that  after  the  drink-offering  we  may  set  down  the 
curved   bow.      And  in   the  morning   bid   Melanthius,   the 


ODYSSEY  XXI,  266-2^5.  353 


goatherd,  to  lead  hither  the  very  best  goats  in  all  his  herds, 
that  we  may  lay  pieces  of  the  thighs  on  the  altar  of  Apollo 
the  archer,  and  assay  the  bow  and  make  an  end  of  the 
contest.' 

So  spake  Antinous,  and  the  saying  pleased  them  well. 
Then  the  henchmen  poured  water  on  their  hands,  and 
pages  crowned  the  mixing-bowls  with  drink,  and  served 
out  the  wine  to  all,  when  they  had  poured  for  libation  into 
each  cup  in  turn.  But  when  they  had  poured  forth  and  had 
drunken  to  their  hearts'  desire,  Odysseus  of  many  counsels 
spake  among  them  out  of  a  crafty  heart,  saying  : 

*  Hear  me,  ye  wooers  of  the  renowned  queen,  that  I  may 
say  that  which  my  heart  within  me  bids.  And  mainly  to 
Eurymachus  I  make  my  prayer  and  to  the  godlike  Antinous, 
forasmuch  as  he  has  spoken  even  this  word  aright,  namely, 
that  for  this  present  ye  cease  from  your  archery  and  leave 
the  issue  to  the  gods ;  and  in  the  morning  the  god  will  give 
the  victory  to  whomsoever  he  will.  Come  therefore,  give  me 
the  polished  bow,  that  in  your  presence  I  may  prove  my 
hands  and  strength,  whether  I  have  yet  any  force  such  as 
once  was  in  my  supple  limbs,  or  whether  my  wanderings  and 
needy  fare  have  even  now  destroyed  it.' 

So  spake  he  and  they  all  were  exceeding  wroth,  for  fear 
lest  he  should  string  the  polished  bow.  And  Antinous  re- 
buked him,  and  spake  and  hailed  him : 

'Wretched  stranger,  thou  hast  no  wit,  nay  never  so 
little.  Art  thou  not  content  to  feast  at  ease  in  our  high 
company,  and  to  lack  not  thy  share  of  the  banquet,  but 
to  Hsten  to  our  speech  and  our  discourse,  while  no  guest 
and  beggar  beside  thee  hears  our  speech  ?  Wine  it  is  that 
wounds  thee,  honey- sweet  wine,  that  is  the  bane  of  others  too, 
even  of  all  who  take  great  draughts  and  drink  out  of  measure. 
Wine  it  was  that  darkened  the  mind  even  of  the  Centaur, 

A  a 


354  ODYSSEY  XXI,  296-325. 

renowned  Eurytion,  in  the  hall  of  high-hearted  Peirithous, 
when  he  went  to  the  Lapithae ;  and  after  that  his  heart  was 
darkened  with  wine,  he  wrought  foul  deeds  in  his  fren.Ty,  in 
the  house  of  Peirithous.  Then  wrath  fell  on  all  the  heroes, 
and  they  leaped  up  and  dragged  him  forth  through  the 
porch,  when  they  had  shorn  off  his  ears  and  nostrils  with 
the  pitiless  sword,  and  then  with  darkened  mind  he  bare  about 
with  him  the  burden  of  his  sin  in  foolishness  of  heart.  Thence 
was  the  feud  begun  between  the  Centaurs  and  mankind; 
but  first  for  himself  gat  he  hurt,  being  heavy  with  wine. 
And  even  so  1  declare  great  mischief  unto  thee  if  thou 
shalt  string  the  bow,  for  thou  shalt  find  no  kindness  at  the 
hand  of  anyone  in  our  land,  and  anon  we  will  send  thee 
in  a  black  ship  to  Echetus,  the  maimer  of  all  men,  and 
thence  thou  shalt  not  be  saved  alive.  Nay  then,  drink  at 
thine  ease,  and  strive  not  still  with  men  that  are  younger 
than  thou.' 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him :  *  Antinous,  truly  it  is 
not  fair  nor  just  to  rob  the  guests  of  Telemachus  of  their 
due,  whosoever  he  may  be  that  comes  to  this  house.  Dost 
thou  think  if  yonder  stranger  strings  the  great  bow  of 
Odysseus,  in  the  pride  of  his  might  and  of  his  strength 
of  arm,  that  he  will  lead  me  to  his  home  and  make  me 
his  wife?  Nay  he  himself,  methinks,  has  no  such  hope 
in  his  breast ;  so,  as  for  that,  let  not  any  of  you  fret 
himself  while  feasting  in  this  place;  that  were  indeed 
unmeet.' 

Then  Eurymachus,  son  of  Polybus,  answered  her,  saying: 
*  Daugher  of  Icarius,  wise  Penelope,  it  is  not  that  we  deem 
that  he  will  lead  thee  to  his  home, — far  be  such  a  thought 
from  us, — ^but  we  dread  the  speech  of  men  and 
women,  lest  some  day  one  of  the  baser  sort  among  the 
Achaeans  say ;  "  Truly  men  far  too  mean  are  wooing  the 


ODYSSEY  XXI,  Z'^S-Z^e. Zj,^ 

wife  of  one  that  is  noble,  nor  can  they  string  the  pohshed 
bow.  But  a  stranger  and  a  beggar  came  in  his  wander- 
ings, and  lightly  strung  the  bow,  and  shot  through  the 
iron."  Thus  will  they  speak,  and  these  things  will  turn  to 
our  reproach/ 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him  :  *  Eurymachus,  never 
can  there  be  fair  fame  in  the  land  for  those  that  devour 
and  dishonour  the  house  of  a  prince.  Why  then  do  ye 
count  such  speech  as  a  reproach  ?  But,  behold,  our  guest  is 
great  of  growth  and  well-knit,  and  claims  to  be  born  the  son 
of  a  good  father.  Come  then,  give  ye  him  the  polished 
bow,  that  we  may  see  that  which  is  to  be.  For  thus 
will  I  declare  my  saying,  and  it  shall  surely  come  to  pass. 
If  he  shall  string  the  bow  and  Apollo  grant  him  renown, 
I  will  clothe  him  in  a  mamtle  and  a  doublet,  goodly  raiment, 
and  I  will  give  him  a  sharp  javelin  to  defend  him  against 
dogs  and  men,  and  a  two-edged  sword  and  sandals  to  bind 
beneath  his  feet,  and  I  will  send  him  whithersoever  his  heart 
and  spirit  bid  him  go.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  her,  saying :  *  My  mother, 
as  for  the  ^  bow,  no  Achaean  is  mightier  than  I  to  give  or 
to  deny  it  to  whomso  I  will,  neither  as  many  as  are  lords 
in  rocky  Ithaca  nor  in  the  isles  on  the  side  of  Elis,  the 
pastureland  of  horses.  Not  one  of  these  shall  force  me 
in  mine  own  despite,  if  I  choose  to  give  this  bow,  yea  once 
and  for  all,  to  the  stranger  to  bear  away  with  him.  But  do 
thou  go  to  thine  own  chamber  and  mind  thine  own  house- 
wiferies, the  loom  and  distaff,  and  bid  thine  handmaids  ply 
their  tasks.  But  the  bow  shall  be  for  men,  for  all,  but  for  me 
in  chief,  for  mine  is  the  lordship  in  the  house.' 

Then  in  amaze  she  went  back  to  her  chamber,  for 
she  laid  up  the  wise  saying  of  her  son  in  her  heart. 
She  ascended  to  her  upper  chamber  with  the  women  her 

A  a  2 


35<5  ODVSSEV  XXI,  356-387. 

handmaids,  and  then  was  bewailing  Odysseus,  her  dear 
lord,  till  grey-eyed  Athene  cast  sweet  sleep  upon  her 
eyelids. 

Now  the  goodly  swineherd  had  taken  the  curved  bow,  and 
was  bearing  it,  when  the  wooers  all  cried  out  upon  him  in 
the  halls.  And  thus  some  one  of  the  haughty  youths  would 
speak :  '  Whither  now  art  thou  bearing  the  curved  bow, 
thou  vagabond,  thou  wretched  swineherd?  Lo,  soon  shall 
the  swift  hounds  of  thine  own  breeding  eat  thee  hard  by  thy 
swine,  alone  and  away  from  men,  if  Apollo  will  be  gracious 
to  us  and  the  other  deathless  gods.' 

Even  so  they  spake,  and  he  took  and  set  down  the  bow 
in  that  very  place,  being  affrighted  because  many  cried 
out  on  him  in  the  halls.  Then  Telemachus  from  the 
other  side  spake  threateningly,  aftd  called  aloud  : 

*  Father,  bring  hither  the  bow,  soon  shalt  thou  rue  it  that  thou 
servest  many  masters.  Take  heed,  lest  I  that  am  younger 
than  thou  pursue  thee  to  the  field,  and  pelt  thee  with  stones, 
for  in  might  I  am  the  better.  If  only  I  were  so  much  mightier 
in  strength  of  arm  than  all  the  wooers  that  are  in  the  halls, 
soon  would  I  send  many  an  one  forth  on  an  evil  road  from 
out  our  house,  for  they  imagine  mischief  against  us.' 

So  he  spake,  and  all  the  wooers  laughed  sweetly  at  him, 
and  ceased  now  from  their  cruel  anger  toward  Telemachus. 
Then  the  swineherd  bare  the  bow  through  the  hall,  and  went 
up  to  wise  Odysseus,  and  set  it  in  his  hands.  And  he  called 
forth  the  nurse  Eurycleia  from  the  chamber  and  spake  to  her: 

*  Wise  Eurycleia,  Telemachus  bids  thee  bar  the  well  fitting 
doors  of  thy  chamber,  and  if  any  of  the  women  hear  the  sound 
of  groaning  or  the  din  of  men  within  our  walls,  let  them  not 
go  forth,  but  abide  where  they  are  in  silence  at  their  work.' 

So  he  spake,  and  the  word  unwinged  abode  with  her,  and 
she  barred  the  doors  of  the  fair-lying  halls. 


ODYSSEY  XXI,  388-418.  357 

Then  Philoetius  hasted  forth  silently  from  the  house,  and 
barred  the  outer  gates  of  the  fenced  court.  Now  there  lay 
beneath  the  corridor  the  cable  of  a  curved  ship,  fashioned  of 
the  byblus  plant,  wherewith  he  made  fast  the  gates,  and  then 
himself  passed  within.  Then  he  went  and  sat  on  the  settle 
whence  he  had  risen,  and  gazed  upon  Odysseus.  He  already 
was  handling  the  bow,  turning  it  every  way  about,  and  proving 
it  on  this  side  and  on  that,  lest  the  worms  might  have  eaten 
the  horns  when  the  lord  of  the  bow  was  away.  And  thus 
men  spake  looking  each  one  to  his  neighbour : 

*  Verily  he  has  a  good  eye,  and  a  shrewd  turn  for  a  bow  I 
It  must  be,  methinks,  that  he  himself  has  the  like  lying  by  at 
home  or  else  he  is  set  on  making  one,  in  such  wise  does  he 
turn  it  hither  and  thither  in  his  hands,  this  evil-witted 
beggar.' 

And  another  again  of  the  haughty  youths  would  say :  '  Oh, 
that  the  fellow  may  get  wherewith  to  profit  withal,  just  in 
such  measure  as  he  shall  ever  prevail  to  bend  the  bow ! ' 

So  spake  the  wooers,  but  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  had 
lifted  the  great  bow  and  viewed  it  on  every  side,  and  even 
as  when  a  man  that  is  skilled  in  the  lyre  and  in  minstrelsy, 
easily  stretches  a  cord  about  a  new  peg,  after  tying  at  either 
end  the  twisted  sheep-gut,  even  so  Odysseus  straightway 
bent  the  great  bow,  all  without  effort,  and  took  it  in  his  right 
hand  and  proved  the  bow-string,  which  rang  sweetly  at  the 
touch,  in  tone  like  a  swallow.  Then  great  grief  came 
upon  the  wooers,  and  the  colour  of  their  countenance  was 
changed,  and  Zeus  thundered  loud  showing  forth  his  tokens. 
And  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  was  glad  thereat,  in  that 
the  son  of  deep-counselling  Cronos  had  sent  him  a  sign. 
Then  he  caught  up  a  swift  arrow  which  lay  by  his  table, 
bare,  but  the  other  shafts  were  stored  within  the  hollow 
quiver,  those  whereof  the  Achaeans  were  soon  to  taste.    He 


^^S  ODYSSEY  XXI,  419-434. 

took  and  laid  it  on  the  bridge  of  the  bow,  and  held  the 
notch  and  drew  the  string,  even  from  the  settle  whereon  he 
sat,  and  with  straight  aim  shot  the  shaft  and  missed  not  one 
of  the  axes,  beginning  from  the  first  axe-handle,  and  the 
bronze-weighted  shaft  passed  clean  through  and  out  at  the 
last.     Then  he  spake  to  Telemachus,  saying : 

*  Telemachus,  thy  guest  that  sits  in  the  halls  does  thee  no 
shame.  In  nowise  did  I  miss  my  mark,  nor  was  I  wearied 
with  long  bending  of  the  bow.  Still  is  my  might  stead- 
fast— not  as  the  wooers  say  scornfully  to  slight  me.  But 
now  is  it  time  that  supper  too  be  got  ready  for  the  Achaeans, 
while  it  is  yet  light,  and  thereafter  must  we  make  other  sport 
with  the  dance  and  the  lyre,  for  these  are  the  crown  of 
the  feast.' 

Therewith  he  nodded  with  bent  brows,  and  Telemachus, 
the  dear  son  of  divine  Odysseus,  girt  his  sharp  sword 
about  him  and  took  the  spear  in  his  grasp,  and  stood  by 
his  high  seat  at  his  father's  side,  armed  with  the  gleaming 
l»:onze. 


BOOK  XXIL 

rhe  killing  of  the  wooers. 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  stripped  him  of  his  rags 
and  leaped  on  to  the  great  threshold  ^*  with  his  bow  and  quiver 
full  of  arrows,  and  poured  forth  all  the  swift  shafts  there 
before  his  feet,  and  spake  among  the  wooers : 

*  Lo,  now  is  this  terrible  trial  ended  at  last ;  and  now  will 
I  make  for  another  mark,  which  never  yet  man  has  smitten, 
if  perchance  I  may  strike  it  and  Apollo  grant  me  renown.' 

With  that  he  pointed  the  bitter  arrow  at  Antinous.  Now 
he  was  about  raising  to  his  lips  a  fair  twy-eared  chalice  of 
gold,  and  behold,  he  was  handling  it  to  drink  of  the  wine, 
and  death  was  far  from  his  thoughts.  For  who  amqng  men 
at  feast  would  deem  that  one  man  amongst  so  many,  how 
hardy  soever  he  were,  would  bring  on  him  foul  death  and 
black  fate  ?  But  Odysseus  aimed  and  smote  him  with  the 
arrow  in  the  throat,  and  the  point  passed  clean  out  through 
his  delicate  neck,  and  he  fell  back  and  the  cup  dropped 
from  his  hand  as  he  was  smitten,  and  at  once  through  his 
nostrils  there  came  up  a  thick  jet  of  slain  man's  blood,,  and 
quickly  he  spurned  the  table  from  him  with  his  foot,  and 
spilt  the  food  on  the  ground,  and  the  bread  and  the  roast 
flesh  were  defiled.  Then  the  wooers  raised  a  clamour  through 
the  halls  when  they  saw  the  man  fallen,  and  they  leaped  from 
their  high  seats,  as  men  stirred  by  fear,  all  through  the  hall, 
peering  everywhere  along  the  well-builded  walls,  and  nowhere 
was  there  a  shield  or  mighty  spear  to  lay  hold  on.  Then 
they  reviled  Odysseus  with  angry  words : 


3^0  ODYSSEY  XXII,  2y-S^. 

*  Stranger,  thou  doest  ill  to  shoot  at  men.  Never  again 
shalt  thou  enter  other  lists,  now  is  utter  doom  assured  thee. 
Yea,  for  now  hast  thou  slain  the  man  that  was  far  the  best 
of  all  the  noble  youths  in  Ithaca ;  wherefore  vultures  shall 
devour  thee  here.' 

So  each  one  spake,  for  indeed  they  thought  that  Odysseus 
had  not  slain  him  wilfully ;  but  they  knew  not  in  their  folly 
that  on  their  own  heads,  each  and  all  of  them,  the  bands  of 
death  had  been  made  fast.  Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels 
loured  on  them,  and  spake  : 

*  Ye  dogs,  ye  said  in  your  hearts  that  I  should  never  more 
come  home  from  the  land  of  the  Trojans,  in  that  ye  wasted 
my  house,  and  lay  with  the  maidservants  by  force,  and  trai- 
torously wooed  my  wife  while  I  was  yet  alive,  and  ye  had 
no  fear  of  the  gods,  that  hold  the  wide  heaven,  nor  of  the 
indignation  of  men  hereafter.  But  now  the  bands  of  death 
have  been  made  fast  upon  you  one  and  all.' 

Even  so  he  spake,  and  pale  fear  gat  hold  on  the  limbs  of 
all,  and  each  man  looked  about,  where  he  might  shun  utter 
doom.  And  Eurymachus  alone  answered  him,  and  spake : 
*  If  thou  art  indeed  Odysseus  of  Ithaca,  come  home  again, 
with  right  thou  speakest  thus,  of  all  that  the  Achaeans  have 
wrought,  many  infatuate  deeds  in  thy  halls  and  many  in  the 
field.  Howbeit,  he  now  lies  dead  that  is  to  blame  for  all, 
Antinous;  for  he  brought  all  these  things  upon  us,  not  as 
longing  very  greatly  for  the  marriage  nor  needing  it  sore, 
but  with  another  purpose,  that  Cronion  has  not  fulfilled  for 
him,  namely,  that  he  might  himself  be  king  over  all  the  land 
of  stablished  Ithaca,  and  he  was  to  have  lain  in  wait  for  thy 
son  and  killed  him.  But  now  ho  is  slain  after  his  deserving, 
and  do  thou  spare  thy  people,  even  thine  own ;  and  we  will 
hereafter  go  about  the  township  and  yield  thee  amends  for  all 
that  has  been  eaten   and  drunken  in  thy  halls,  each  for 


ODYSSEY  XXII,  57-87.  361 

himself  bringing  atonement  of  twenty  oxen  worth,  and  re- 
quiting thee  in  gold  and  bronze  till  thy  heart  is  softened,  but 
till  then  none  may  blame  thee  that  thou  art  angry.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  looked  askance  on  him, 
and  said :  '  Eurymachus,  not  even  if  ye  gave  me  all  your 
heritage,  all  that  ye  now  have,  and  whatsoever  else  ye  might 
in  any  wise  add  thereto,  not  even  so  would  I  henceforth  hold 
my  hands  from  slaying,  ere  the  wooers  had  paid  for  all  their 
transgressions.  And  now  the  choice  lies-before  you,  whether 
to  fight  in  fair  battle  or  to  fly,  if  any  may  avoid  death  and 
the  fates.  But  there  be  some,  methinks,  that  shall  not  escape 
from  utter  doom.' 

He  spake,  and  their  knees  were  straightway  loosened  and 
their  hearts  melted  within  them.  And  Eurymachus  spake 
among  them  yet  again: 

*  Friends,  it  is  plain  that  this  man  will  not  hold  his  un- 
conquerable hands,  but  now  that  he  has  caught  up  the 
polished  bow  and  quiver,  he  will  shoot  from  the  smooth 
threshold,  till  he  has  slain  us  all ;  wherefore  let  us  take 
thought  for  the  delight  of  battle.  Draw  your  blades,  and  hold 
up  the  tables  for  shields  against  the  arrows  of  swift  death, 
and  let  us  all  have  at  him  with  one  accord,  and  drive  him, 
if  it  may  be,  from  the  threshold  and  the  doorway  and  then 
go  through  the  city,  and  quickly  would  the  cry  be  raised. 
Thereby  should  this  man  soon  have  shot  his  latest  bolt.' 

Therewith  he  drew  his  sharp  two-edged  sword  of  bronze, 
and  leapt  on  Odysseus  with  a  terrible  cry,  but  in  the  same 
moment  goodly  Odysseus  shot  the  arrow  forth  and  struck 
him  on  the  breast  by  the  pap,  and  drave  the  swift  shaft 
into  his  liver.  So  he  let  the  sword  fall  from  his  hand,  and 
grovelling  over  the  table  he  bowed  and  fell,  and  spilt  the 
food  and  the  double  cup  on  the  floor.  And  in  his  agony  he 
smote  the  ground  with  his  brow,  and  spurning  with  both  his 


3^2  ODYSSEY  XXII,  87-I17, 


feet  he  struck  against  the  high  seat,  and  the  mist  of  death 
was  shed  upon  his  eyes. 

Then  Amphinomus  made  at  renowned  Odysseus,  setting 
straight  at  him,  and  drew  his  sharp  sword,  if  perchance  he 
might  make  him  give  ground  from  the  door.  But  Telemachus 
was  beforehand  with  him,  and  cast  and  smote  him  from  behind 
with  a  bronze-shod  spear  between  the  shoulders,  and  drave 
it  out  through  the  breast,  and  he  fell  with  a  crash  and  struck 
the  ground  full  with  his  forehead.  Then  Telemachus  sprang 
away,  leaving  the  long  spear  fixed  in  Amphinomus,  for  he 
greatly  dreaded  lest  one  of  the  Achaeans  might  run  upon  him 
with  his  blade,  and  stab  him  as  he  drew  forth  the  spear,  or 
smite  him  with  a  down  stroke  *  of  the  sword.  So  he  started 
and  ran  and  came  quickly  to  his  father,  and  stood  by  him, 
and  spake  winged  words  : 

*  Father,  lo,  now  I  will  bring  thee  a  shield  and  two  spears 
and  a  helmet  all  of  bronze,  close  fitting  on  the  temples,  and 
when  I  return  I  will  arm  myself,  and  likewise  give  arms  to 
the  swineherd  and  to  the  neatherd  yonder :  for  it  is  better  to 
be  clad  in  full  armour.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying: 
*  Run  and  bring  them  while  I  have  arrows  to  defend  me,  lest 
they  thrust  me  from  the  doorway,  one  man  against  them  all/ 

So  he  spake,  and  Telemachus  obeyed  his  dear  father,  and 
went  forth  to  the  chamber,  where  his  famous  weapons  were 
lying.  Thence  he  took  out  four  shields  and  eight  spears, 
and  four  helmets  of  bronze,  with  thick  plumes  of  horse  hair, 
and  he  started  to  bring  them  and  came  quickly  to  his  father. 
Now  he  girded  the  gear  of  bronze  about  his  own  body  first, 
and  in  like  manner  the  two  thralls  did  on  the  goodly  armour, 
and  stood  beside  the  wise  and  crafty  Odysseus.  Now  he, 
so  long  as  he  had  arrows  to  defend  him,  kept  aiming  and 
*  Or,  reading  irpovptjvia,  smite  him  as  he  stooped  ovci  the  corpse. 


ODYSSEY  XXIl^  I17-148.  363 

smote  the  wooers  one  by  one  in  his  house,  and  they  fell  thick 
one  upon  another.  But  when  the  arrows  failed  the  prince  in 
his  archery,  he  leaned  his  bow  against  the  doorpost  of  the 
stablished  hall,  against  the  shining  faces  of  the  entrance.  As 
for  him  he  girt  his  fourfold  shield  about  his  shoulders  and 
bound  on  his  mighty  head  a  well  wrought  helmet,  with 
horse  hair  crest,  and  terribly  the  plume  waved  aloft.  And 
he  grasped  two  mighty  spears  tipped  with  bronze. 

Now  there  was  in  the  well-builded  wall  a  certain  postern 
raised  above  the  floor,  and  there  by  the  topmost  level  of  the 
threshold  of  the  stablished  hall,  was  a  way  into  an  open 
passage,  closed  by  well-fitted  folding  doors.  So  Odysseus 
bade  the  goodly  swineherd  stand  near  thereto  and  watch  the 
way,  for  thither  was  there  but  one  approach.  Then  Agelaus 
spake  among  them,  and  declared  his  word  to  all : 

'  Friends,  will  not  some  man  climb  up  to  the  postern,  and 
give  word  to  the  people,  and  a  cry  would  be  raised  straight- 
way ;  so  should  this  man  soon  have  shot  his  latest  bolt  ? ' 

Then  Melanthius,  the  goatherd,  answered  him,  saying:  *It 
may  in  no  wise  be,  prince  Agelaus ;  for  the  fair  doors  toward 
the  court  are  grievously  near  to  the  postern,  and  perilous  is 
the  entrance  to  the  passage,  and  one  mighty  man  would  keep 
back  a  host.  But  come,  let  me  bring  you  armour  from  the 
inner  chamber,  that  ye  may  be  clad  in  hauberks,  for  me- 
thinks  it  is  in  that  room  and  no  other,  that  Odysseus  and 
his  renowned  son  laid  by  the  arms.' 

Therewith  Melanthius,  the  goatherd,  climbed  up  by  the 
clerestory  of  the  hall  to  the  inner  chambers  of  Odysseus, 
whence  he  took  twelve  shields  and  as  many  spears,  and  as 
many  helmets  of  bronze  with  thick  plumes  ol  horse  hair,  and 
he  came  forth  and  brought  them  speedily,  and  gave  them 
to  the  wooers.  Then  the  knees  of  Odysseus  were  loosened 
and  his  heart  melted  within  him,  when  he  saw  them  girding 


3^4  ODYSSEY  XXII,  148-177, 


on  the  armour  and  brandishing  the  long  spears  in  their  hands, 
and  great,  he  saw,  was  the  adventure.  Quickly  he  spake  to 
Telemachus  winged  words: 

'  Telemachus,  sure  I  am  that  one  of  the  women  in  the 
halls  is  stirring  up  an  evil  battle  against  us,  or  perchance  it  is 
Melanthius/ 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him :  *  My  father,  it  is  I 
that  have  erred  herein  and  none  other  is  to  blame,  for  I  left 
the  well-fitted  door  of  the  chamber  open,  and  there  has  been 
one  of  them  but  too  quick  to  spy  it.  Go  now,  goodly 
Eumaeus,  and  close  the  door  of  the  chamber,  and  mark  if 
it  be  indeed  one  of  the  women  that  does  this  mischief,  or 
Melanthius,  son  of  Dolius,  as  methinks  it  is/ 

Even  so  they  spake  one  to  the  other.  And  Melanthius, 
the  goatherd,  went  yet  again  to  the  chamber  to  bring  the 
fair  armour.  But  the  goodly  swineherd  was  ware  thereof, 
and  quickly  he  spake  to  Odysseus  who  stood  nigh  him : 

*  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus,  of  many 
devices,  lo,  there  again  is  that  baleful  man,  whom  we  our- 
selves suspect,  going  to  the  chamber ;  do  thou  tell  me  truly, 
shall  I  slay  him  if  I  prove  the  better  man,  or  bring  him 
hither  to  thee,  that  he  may  pay  for  the  many  transgressions 
that  he  has  devised  in  thy  house  ? ' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  saying : 
*Verily,  I  and  Telemachus  will  keep  the  proud  wooers  within 
the  halls,  for  all  their  fury,  but  do  ye  twain  tie  his  feet  and 
upper  limbs  behind  his  back  and  cast  him  into  the  chamber, 
and  close  the  doors  after  you*,  and  make  fast  to  his  body 
a  twisted  rope,  and  drag  him  up  the  lofty  pillar  till  he  be  near 
the  roof  beams,  that  he  may  hang  there  and  live  for  long, 
and  suffer  grievous  torment/ 

*  Or,  as  Mr.  Merry  suggests  in  his  note,  '  tie  boards  behind  him,'  as  a 
method  of  torture.     He  compares  Aristoph.  Thesm.  931,  940. 


ODYSSEY  XXII,   178-207.  365 

So  he  spake,  and  they  gave  good  heed  and  hearkened. 
So  they  went  forth  to  the  chamber,  but  the  goatherd  who 
was  within  knew  not  of  their  coming.  Now  he  was  seeking 
for  the  armour  in  the  secret  place  of  the  chamber,  but  they 
twain  stood  in  waiting  on  either  side  the  door  posts.  And 
when  Melanthius,  the  goatherd,  was  crossing  the  threshold 
with  a  goodly  helm  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  a  wide 
shield  and  an  old,  stained  with  rust,  the  shield  of  the  hero 
Laertes  that  he  bare  when  he  was  young—  but  at  that  time  it 
was  laid  by,  and  the  seams  of  the  straps  were  loosened, — 
then  the  twain  rushed  on  him  and  caught  him,  and  dragged 
him  in  by  the  hair,  and  cast  him  on  the  floor  in  sorrowful 
plight,  and  bound  him  hand  and  foot  in  a  bitter  bond,  tightly 
winding  each  limb  behind  his  back,  even  as  the  son  of 
Laertes  bade  them,  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus.  And 
they  made  fast  to  his  body  a  twisted  rope,  and  dragged 
him  up  the  lofty  pillar  till  he  came  near  the  roof  beams. 
Then  didst  thou  speak  to  him  and  gird  at  him,  swineherd 
Eumaeus : 

*Now  in  good  truth,  Melanthius,  shalt  thou  watch  all 
night,  lying  on  a  soft  bed  as  beseems  thee,  nor  shall  the 
early-born  Dawn  escape  thy  ken,  when  she  comes  forth  from 
the  streams  of  Oceanus,  on  her  golden  throne,  in  the  hour 
when  thou  art  wont  to  drive  the  goats  for  the  wooers,  to 
prepare  a  feast  in  the  halls.' 

So  he  was  left  there,  stretched  tight  in  the  deadly  bond. 
But  they  twain  got  into  their  harness,  and  closed  the  shining 
door,  and  went  to  Odysseus,  wise  and  crafty  chief.  There 
they  stood  breathing  fury,  four  men  by  the  threshold,  while 
those  others  within  the  halls  were  many  and  good  warriors. 
Then  Athene,  daughter  of  Zeus,  drew  nigh  them,  like  Men- 
tor in  fashion  and  in  voice,  and  Odysseus  was  glad  when  he 
saw  her  and  spake,  saying : 


^66  ODYSSEY  XXII,  208-238. 

*  Mentor,  ward  from  us  hurt,  and  remember  me  thy  dear 
companion,  that  befriended  thee  often,  and  thou  art  of  like 
age  with  me/ 

So  he  spake,  deeming  the  while  that  it  was  A^thene,  sum- 
moner  of  the  host.  But  the  wooers  on  the  other  side  shouted 
in  the  halls,  and  first  Agelaus  son  of  Damastor  rebuked 
Athene,  saying: 

*  Mentor,  let  not  the  speech  of  Odysseus  beguile  thee  to 
fight  against  the  wooers,  and  to  succour  him.  For  me- 
thinks  that  on  this  wise  we  shall  work  our  will.  When  we 
shall  have  slain  these  men,  father  and  son,  thereafter  shalt  thou 
perish  with  them,  such  deeds  thou  art  set  on  doing  in  these 
halls ;  nay,  with  thine  own  head  shalt  thou  pay  the  price. 
But  when  with  the  sword  we  shall  have  robbed  you  all  of  your 
force,  we  will  mingle  all  thy  possessions,  all  that  thou  hast  at 
home  or  in  the  field,  with  the  wealth  of  Odysseus,  and  we  will 
not  suffer  thy  sons  nor  thy  daughters  to  dwell  in  the  halls, 
nor  thy  good  wife  to  gad  about  in  the  town  of  Ithaca.' 

So  spake  he,  and  Athene  waxed  yet  the  more  wroth  at 
heart,  and  chid  Odysseus  with  angry  words :  *  Odysseus, 
thou  hast  no  more  steadfast  might  nor  any  prowess,  as  when 
for  nine  whole  years  continually  thou  didst  battle  with  the 
Trojans  for  high  born  Helen,  of  the  white  arms,  and  many 
men  thou  slewest  in  terrible  warfare,  and  by  thy  device  the 
wide-wayed  city  of  Priam  was  taken.  How  then,  now  that 
thou  art  come  to  thy  house  and  thine  own  possessions,  dost 
thou  bewail  the  need  of  courage  to  stand  before  the  wooers  ? 
Nay  come  hither,  friend,  and  stand  by  me,  and  I  will  show 
thee  a  thing,  that  thou  mayest  know  what  manner  of  man 
is  Mentor,  son  of  Alcimus,  to  repay  good  deeds  in  the  ranks 
of  foemen.' 

She  spake,  and  gave  him  not  clear  victory  in  full,  but  still 
for  a  while  she  made  trial  of  the  might  and  prowess  of  Odys- 


ODYSSEY  XXII,  239-270.  367 

seus  and  his  renowned  son.  As  for  her  she  flew  up  to  the 
roof  timber  of  the  murky  hall,  in  such  fashion  as  a  swallow 
flies,  and  there  sat  down. 

Now  Agelaus,  son  of  Damastor,  urged  on  the  wooers,  and 
likewise  Eurynomus  and  Amphimedon  and  Demoptolemus 
and  Peisandrus  son  of  Polyctor,  and  wise  Polybus,  for  these 
were  in  valiancy  far  the  best  men  of  the  wooers,  that  still 
lived  and  fought  for  their  lives;  for  the  rest  had  fallen  already 
beneath  the  bow  and  the  thick  rain  of  arrows.  Then  Agelaus 
spake  among  them,  and  made  known  his  word  to  all : 

*  Friends,  now  at  last  will  this  man  hold  his  unconquerable 
hands.  Lo,  now  has  Mentor  left  him  and  spoken  but  vain 
boasts,  and  these  remain  alone  at  the  entrance  of  the  doors. 
Wherefore  now,  throw  not  your  long  spears  all  together,  but 
come,  do  ye  six  cast  first,  if  perchance  Zeus  may  grant  us  to 
smite  Odysseus  and  win  renown.  Of  the  rest  will  we  take 
no  heed,  so  soon  as  that  man  shall  have  fallen.' 

So  he  spake  and  they  all  cast  their  javelins,  as  he  bade 
them,  eagerly ;  but  behold,  Athene  so  wrought  that  they  were 
all  in  vain.  One  man  smote  the  doorpost  of  the  stablished 
hall,  and  another  the  well-fastened  door,  and  the  ashen  spear 
of  yet  another  wooer,  heavy  with  bronze,  stuck  fast  in  the 
wall.  So  when  they  had  avoided  all  the  spears  of  the  wooers, 
the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  began  first  to  speak  among 
them  : 

'  Friends,  now  my  word  is  that  we  too  cast  and  hurl  into 
the  press  of  the  wooers,  that  are  mad  to  slay  and  snip  us 
beyond  the  measure  of  their  former  iniquities.* 

So  he  spake,  and  they  all  took  good  aim  and  threw  their 
sharp  spears,  and  Odysseus  smote  Demoptolemus,  and  Tele- 
machus  Euryades,  and  the  swineherd  slew  Elatus,  and  the 
neatherd  Peisandrus.  Thus  they  all  bit  the  wide  floor  with 
their  teeth,  and  the  wooers  fell  back  into  the  inmost  part  of 


358  ODYSSEY  XXII,  271-302. 

the  hall.  But  the  others  dashed  upon  them,  and  drew  forth 
the  shafts  from  the  bodies  of  the  dead. 

Then  once  more  the  wooers  threw  their  sharp  spears 
eagerly ;  but  behold,  Athene  so  wrought  that  many  of  them 
were  in  vain.  One  man  smote  the  door-post  of  the  stablished 
hall,  and  another  the  well-fastened  door,  and  the  ashen  spear 
of  another  wooer,  heavy  with  bronze,  struck  in  the  wall.  Yet 
Amphimedon  hit  Telemachus  on  the  hand  by  the  wrist 
lightly,  and  the  shaft  of  bronze  wounded  the  surface  of  the 
skin.  And  Ctesippus  grazed  the  shoulder  of  Eumaeus  with 
a  long  spear  high  above  the  shield,  and  the  spear  flew  over 
and  fell  to  the  ground.  Then  again  Odysseus,  the  wise  and 
crafty,  he  and  his  men  cast  their  swift  spears  into  the  press 
of  the  wooers,  and  now  once  more  Odysseus,  waster  of  cities, 
smote  Eurydamas,  and  Telemachus  Amphimedon,  and  the 
swineherd  slew  Polybus,  and  last,  the  neatherd  struck  Ctesip- 
pus in  the  breast  and  boasted  over  him,  saying : 

*■  O  son  of  Polytherses,  thou  lover  of  jeering,  never  give 
place  at  all  to  folly  to  speak  so  big,  but  leave  thy  case  to  the 
gods,  since  in  truth  they  are  far  mightier  than  thou.  This  gift  is 
thy  recompense  for  the  ox-foot  that  thou  gavest  of  late  to  the 
divine  Odysseus,  when  he  went  begging  through  the  house.' 

So  spake  the  keeper  of  the  shambling  kine.  Next  Odys- 
seus wounded  the  son  of  Damastor  in  close  fight  with  his 
long  spear,  and  Telemachus  wounded  Leocritus  son  of 
Euenor,  right  in  the  flank  with  his  lance,  and  drave  the 
bronze  point  clean  through,  that  he  fell  prone  and  struck  the 
ground  full  with  his  forehead.  Then  Athene  held  up  her 
destroying  aegis  on  high  from  the  roof,  and  their  minds  were 
scared,  and  they  fled  through  the  hall,  like  a  drove  of  kine 
that  the  flitting  gadfly  falls  upon  and  scatters  hither  and 
thither  in  spring  time,  when  the  long  days  begin.  But  the 
others  set  on  like  vultures  of  crooked  claws  and  curved 


ODVSSEV  XXII,  '>,0'>rZ?>'^^  3*^9 

beak,  that  come  forth  from  the  mountains  and  dash  upon 
bmaller  birds,  and  these  scour  low  in  the  plain,  stooping  in 
terror  from  the  clouds,  while  the  vultures  pounce  on  them 
and  slay  them,  and  there  is  no  help  nor  way  of  flight,  and 
men  are  glad  at  the  sport;  even  so  did  the  company  of 
Odysseus  set  upon  the  wooers  and  smite  them  right  and  left 
through  the  hall ;  and  there  rose  a  hideous  moaning  as  their 
heads  were  smitten,  and  the  floor  all  ran  with  blood. 

Now  Leiodes  took  hold  of  the  knees  of  Odysseus  eagerly, 
and  besought  him  and  spake  winged  words :  '  I  entreat  thee 
by  thy  knees,  Odysseus,  and  do  thou  show  mercy  on  me  and 
have  pity.  For  never  yet,  I  say,  have  I  wronged  a  maiden  in 
thy  halls  by  froward  word  or  deed,  nay  I  bade  the  other 
wooers  refrain,  whoso  of  them  wrought  thus.  But  they 
hearkened  not  unto  me  to  keep  their  hands  from  evil. 
Wherefore  they  have  met  a  shameful  death  through  their 
own  infatuate  deeds.  Yet  I,  the  soothsayer  among  them, 
that  have  wrought  no  evil,  shall  fall  even  as  they,  for  no 
gratitude  survives  for  good  deeds  done.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  looked  askance  at  him, 
and  said :  *  If  indeed  thou  dost  avow  thee  to  be  the  sooth- 
sayer of  these  men,  thou  art  like  to  have  often  prayed  in  the 
halls  that  the  issue  of  a  glad  return  might  be  far  from  me, 
and  that  my  dear  wife  should  follow  thee  and  bear  thee 
children;  wherefore  thou  shalt  not  escape  the  bitterness  of 
death/ 

Therewith  he  caught  up  a  sword  in  his  strong  hand,  that 
lay  where  Agelaus  had  let  it  fall  to  the  ground  when  he  was 
slain,  and  drave  it  clean  through  his  neck,  and  as  he  yet 
spake  his  head  fell  even  to  the  dust. 

But  the  son  of  Terpes,  the  minstrel,  still  sought  how  he 
might  shun  black  fate,  Phemius,  who  sang  among  the  wooers 
of  necessity.     He  stood  with  the  loud  lyre  in  his  hand  hard 

Bb 


370 ODYSSEY  XXII,  y^^Z-^fi^^. 

by  the  postern  gate,  and  his  heart  was  divided  within  him, 
whether  he  should  slip  forth  from  the  hall  and  sic  down  by 
the  well-wrought  altar  of  great  Zeus  of  the  household  court, 
whereon  Laertes  and  Odysseus  had  burnt  many  pieces  of  the 
thighs  of  oxen,  or  should  spring  forward  and  beseech  Odys- 
seus by  his  knees.  And  as  he  thought  thereupon  this 
seemed  to  him  the  better  way,  to  embrace  the  knees  of 
Odysseus,  son  of  Laertes.  So  he  laid  the  hollow  lyre  on  the 
ground  between  the  mixing-bowl  and  the  high  seat  inlaid 
with  silver,  and  himself  sprang  forward  and  seized  Odys- 
seus by  the  knees,  and  besought  him  and  spake  winged 
words : 

*  I  entreat  thee  by  thy  knees,  Odysseus,  and  do  thou  show 
mercy  on  me  and  have  pity.  It  will  be  a  sorrow  to  thyself 
in  the  aftertime  if  thou  slayest  me  who  am  a  minstrel,  and 
sing  before  gods  and  men.  Yea  none  has  taught  me  but 
myself,  and  the  god  has  put  into  my  heart  all  manner  of 
lays,  and  methinks  I  sing  to  thee  as  to  a  god,  wherefore  be 
not  eager  to  cut  off  my  head.  And  Telemachus  will  testify 
of  this,  thine  own  dear  son,  that  not  by  mine  own  will  or 
desire  did  I  resort  to  thy  house  to  sing  to  the  wooers  after 
their  feasts ;  but  being  so  many  and  stronger  than  I  they 
led  me  by  constraint.' 

So  he  spake,  and  the  mighty  prince  Telemachus  heard 
him  and  quickly  spake  to  his  father  at  his  side  :  '  Hold  thy 
hand,  and  wound  not  this  blameless  man  with  the  sword; 
and  let  us  save  also  the  henchman  Medon,  that  ever  had 
charge  of  me  in  our  house  \^hen  I  was  a  child,  unless  per- 
chance Philoetius  or  the  swineherd  have  already  slain  him, 
or  he  hath  met  thee  in  thy  raging  through  the  house.' 

So  he  spake,  and  Medon,  wise  of  heart,  heard  him. 
For  he  lay  crouching  beneath  a  high  seat,  clad  about  in  the 
new-flayed  hide  of  an  ox  and  shunned  black  fate.     So  he 


ODYSSEY  XXll,  ^6^-^^^,  ^-jx 

rose  up  quickly  from  under  the  seat,  and  cast  off  the  ox-hide, 
and  sprang  forth  and  caught  Telemachus  by  the  knees,  and 
besought  him  and  spake  winged  words : 

'  Friend,  here  am  I ;  prithee  stay  thy  hand  and  speak  to 
thy  father,  lest  he  harm  me  with  the  sharp  sword  in  the 
greatness  of  his  strength,  out  of  his  anger  for  the  wooers 
that  wasted  his  possessions  in  the  halls,  and  in  their  folly 
held  thee  in  no  honour.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  smiled  on  him  and  said : 
'Take  courage,  for  lo,  he  has  saved  thee  and  delivered 
thee,  that  thou  mayst  know  in  thy  heart,  and  tell  it  even 
to  another,  how  far  more  excellent  are  good  deeds  than 
evil.  But  go  forth  from  the  halls  and  sit  down  in  the  court 
apart  from  the  slaughter,  thou  and  the  full-voiced  minstrel, 
till  I  have  accomplished  all  that  I  must  needs  do  in  the 
house/ 

Therewith.the  two  went  forth  and  gat  them  from  the  hall. 
So  they  sat  down  by  the  altar  of  great  Zeus,  peering  about  on 
every  side,  still  expecting  death.  And  Odysseus  peered  all 
through  the  house,  to  see  if  any  man  was  yet  alive  and  hiding 
away  to  shun  black  fate.  But  he  found  all  the  sort  of  them' 
fallen  in  their  blood  in  the  dust,  like  fishes  that  the  fishermen 
have  drawn  forth  in  the  meshes  of  the  net  into  a  hollow  of 
the  beach  from  out  the  grey  sea,  and  all  the  fish,  sore  longing 
for  the  salt  sea  waves,  are  heaped  upon  the  sand,  and  the  sun 
shines  forth  and  takes  their  life  away ;  so  now  the  wooers  lay 
heaped  upon  each  other.  Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels 
spake  to  Telemachus : 

*  Telemachus,  go,  call  me  the  nurse  Eurycleia,  that  I  may 
tell  her  the  word  that  is  on  my  mind.' 

So  he  spake,  and  Telemachus  obeyed  his  dear  father,  and 
smote  at  the  door,  and  spake  to  the  nurse  Eurycleia :  '  Up 
now,  aged  wife,  that  overlookest  ail  the  women  servants  in 

B  b  a 


372  ODVSSEV  XXII,  396-429. 


our  hnlls,  come  hither,  my  father  calls  thee  and  has  some- 
what to  say  to  thee/ 

Even  so  he  spake,  and  his  word  unwinged  abode  with  her, 
and  she  opened  the  doors  of  the  fair-lying  halls,  and  came 
forth,  and  Telemachus  led  the  way  before  her.  So  she  found 
Odysseus  among  the  bodies  of  the  dead,  stained  with  blood 
and  soil  of  batde,  like  a  lion  that  has  eaten  of  an  ox  of  the 
homestead  and  goes  on  his  way,  and  all  his  breast  and  his 
cheeks  on  either  side  are  flecked  with  blood,  and  he  is  terrible 
to  behold;  even  so  was  Odysseus  stained,  both  hands  and  feet. 
Now  the  nurse,  when  she  saw  the  bodies  of  the  dead  and 
the  great  gore  of  blood,  made  ready  to  cry  aloud  for  joy, 
beholding  so  great  an  adventure.  But  Odysseus  checked 
and  held  her  in  her  eagerness,  and  uttering  his  voice  spake 
to  her  winged  words  : 

*  Within  thine  own  heart  rejoice,  old  nurse,  and  be  still, 
and  cry  not  aloud ;  for  it  is  an  unholy  thing  to  boast  over 
slain  men.  Now  these  hath  the  destiny  of  the  gods  overcome, 
and  their  own  cruel  deeds,  for  they  honoured  none  of  earthly 
men,  neither  the  good  nor  yet  the  bad,  that  came  among  them. 
Wherefore  they  have  met  a  shameful  death  through  their  own 
infatuate  deeds.  But  come,  tell  me  the  tale  of  the  women  in  my 
halls,  which  of  them  dishonour  me,  and  which  be  guiltless.' 

Then  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  answered  him  :  '  Yea  now, 
my  child,  I  will  tell  thee  all  the  truth.  Thou  hast  fifty 
women-servants  in  thy  halls,  that  we  have  taught  the  ways 
of  housewifery,  how  to  card  wool  and  to  bear  bondage.  Of 
these  twelve  in  all  have  gone  the  way  of  shame,  and  honour 
not  me,  nor  their  lady  Penelope.  And  Telemachus  hath  but 
newly  come  to  his  strength,  and  his  mother  suffered  him  not 
to  take  command  over  the  women  in  this  house.  But  now,  let 
me  go  aloft  to  the  shining  upper  chamber,  and  tell  all  to  thy 
wife,  on  whom  some  god  hath  sent  a  sleep.* 


ODYSSEY  XXII,  430-452.  2>1'^ 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying: 
•  Wake  her  not  yet,  but  bid  the  women  come  hither,  who  in 
time  past  behaved  themselves  unseemly.' 

So  he  spake,  and  the  old  wife  passed  through  the  hall, 
to  tell  the  women  and  to  hasten  their  coming.  Then  Odys- 
seus called  to  him  Telemachus,  and  the  neatherd,  and  the 
swineherd,  and  spake  to  them  winged  words : 

*  Begin  ye  now  to  carry  out  the  dead,  and  bid  the  women 
help  you,  and  thereafter  cleanse  the  fair  high  seats  and 
the  tables  with  water  and  porous  sponges.  And  when 
ye  have  set  all  the  house  in  order,  lead  the  maidens  with- 
out the  stablished  hall,  between  the  kitchen  dome  and  the 
sacred  fence  of  the  court,  and  there  slay  them  with  your 
long  blades,  till  they  shall  have  all  given  up  the  ghost  and 
forgotten  the  love  that  of  old  they  had  at  the  bidding  of  the 
wooers,  in  secret  dalliance/ 

Even  so  he  spake,  and  the  women  came  all  in  a  crowd 
together,  making  a  terrible  lament  and  shedding  big  tears. 
So  first  they  carried  forth  the  bodies  of  the  slain,  and  set 
them  beneath  the  corridor  of  the  fenced  court,  and  propped 
them  one  on  another;  and  Odysseus  himself  hasted  the 
women  and  directed  them,  and  they  carried  forth  the  dead 
perforce.  Thereafter  they  cleansed  the  fair  high  seats  and 
the  tables  with  water  and  porous  sponges.  And  Telemachus, 
and  the  neatherd,  and  the  swineherd,  scraped  with  spades 
the  floor  of  the  well-builded  house,  and,  behold,  the  maidens 
carried  all  forth  and  laid  it  without  the  'doors. 

Now  when  they  had  made  an  end  of  setting  the  hall  in 
order,  they  led  the  maidens  forth  from  the  stablished  hall,  and 
drove  them  up  in  a  narrow  space  between  the  kitchen  dome 
and  the  sacred  fence  of  the  court,  whence  none  might  avoid ; 
and  wise  Telemachus  began  to  speak  to  his  fellows,  saying : 

*  God  forbid  that  I  should  take  these  womens  lives  by  a 


374  ODVSSEy  XXII,  462-493. 

clean  death,  these  that  have  poured  dishonour  on  my  head 
and  on  my  mother,  and  have  lain  with  the  wooers.' 

With  that  word  he  tied  the  cable  of  a  dark-prowed  ship  to  a 
great  pillar  and  flung  it  round  the  kitchen-dome,  and  fastened 
it  aloft,  that  none  might  touch  the  ground  with  her  feet. 
And  even  as  when  thrushes,  long  of  wing,  or  doves  fall  into 
a  net  that  is  set  in  a  thicket,  as  they  seek  to  their  roosting- 
place,  and  a  hateful  bed  harbours  them,  even  so  the  women 
held  their  heads  all  in  a  row,  and  about  all  their  necks  nooses 
were  cast,  that  they  might  die  by  the  most  pitiful  death.  And 
they  writhed  with  their  feet  for  a  little  space,  but  for  no  long 
while. 

Then  they  led  out  Melanthius  through  the  gateway  and 
the  court,  and  cut  off  his  nostrils  and  his  ears  with  the 
pitiless  sword,  and  drew  forth  his  vitals  for  the  dogs  to 
devour  raw,  and  cut  off  his  hands  and  feet  in  their  cruel 
anger. 

Thereafter  they  washed  their  hands  and  feet,  and  went 
into  the  house  to  Odysseus,  and  all  the  adventure  was  over. 
So  Odysseus  called  to  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  :  '■  Bring 
sulphur,  old  nurse,  that  cleanses  all  pollution  and  bring  me 
fire,  that  I  may  purify  the  house  with  sulphur,  and  do  thou  bid 
Penelope  come  here  with  her  handmaidens,  and  tell  all  the 
women  in  the  house  to  speed  them  hither.' 

Then  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  made  answer  :  *  Yea,  my 
child,  herein  thou  hast  spoken  aright.  But  go  to,  let  me 
bring  thee  a  mantle  and  a  doublet  for  raiment,  and  stand 
not  thus  in  the  halls  with  thy  broad  shoulders  wrapped  in 
rags ;  it  were  blame  in  thee  so  to  do.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying: 
*  First  let  a  fire  now  be  made  me  in  the  hall.' 

So  he  spake,  and  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  was  not  slo^ 
to  obey,  but  brought  fire   and  brimstone;    and  Odysseus 


ODYSSEY  XXII,  494-501.  ^']^ 

throughly  purged  the  women's  chamber  and  the  great  hall 
and  the  court. 

Then  the  old  wife  went  through  the  fair  halls  of  Odysseus 
to  tell  the  women,  and  to  hasten  their  coming.  So  they 
came  forth  from  their  chamber  with  torches  in  their  hands, 
and  fell  about  Odysseus,  and  embraced  him  and  kissed  and 
clasped  his  head  and  shoulders  and  his  hands  lovingly,  and 
a  sweet  longing  came  on  him  to  weep  and  moan,  for  he 
remembered  them  every  one. 


BOOK  XXIII. 

Odysseus  maketh  himself  known  to  Penelope,  tells  his  adventures  briefly, 
and  in  the  morning  goes  to  Laertes  and  makes  himself  known  to  him. 

Then  the  ancient  woman  went  up  into  the  upper  chamber 
laughing  aloud,  to  tell  her  mistress  how  her  dear  lord  was 
within,  and  her  knees  moved  fast  for  joy,  and  her  feet 
stumbled  one  over  the  other ;  and  she  stood  above  the  lady's 
head  and  spake  to  her,  saying : 

'Awake,  Penelope,  dear  child,  that  thou  mayest  see  with 
thine  own  eyes  that  which  thou  desirest  day  by  day. 
Odysseus  hath  come,  and  hath  got  him  to  his  own  house, 
though  late  hath  he  come,  and  hath  slain  the  proud  wooers 
that  troubled  his  house,  and  devoured  his  substance,  and 
oppressed  his  child/ 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  her:  *Dear  nurse,  the 
gods  have  made  thee  distraught,  the  gods  that  can  make 
foolish  even  the  wisdom  of  the  wise,  and  that  stablish  the 
simple  in  understanding.  They  it  is  that  have  marred  thy 
reason,  though  heretofore  thou  hadst  a  prudent  heart.  Why 
dost  thou  mock  me,  who  have  a  spirit  full  of  sorrow,  to 
speak  these  wild  words,  and  rousest  me  out  of  sweet  slumber, 
that  had  bound  me  and  overshadowed  mine  eyelids  ?  Never 
yet  have  I  slept  so  sound  since  the  day  that  Odysseus 
went  forth  to  see  that  evil  Ilios,  never  to  be  named.  Go 
to  now,  get  thee  down  and  back  to  the  women's  chamber, 
for  if  any  other  of  the  maids  of  my  house  had  come  and 
brought  me  such  tidings,  and  wakened  me  from  sleep, 
straightway  would  I  have  sent   her   back   right  rudely  to 


ODYSSEY  XXIIl,  23-53.      •  377 

return  within  the  women's  chamber;   but  this  time  thine 
old  age  shall  stand  thee  in  good  stead/ 

Then  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  answered  her :  *  I  mock  thee 
not,  dear  child,  but  in  very  deed  Odysseus  is  here,  and  hath 
come  home,  even  as  I  tell  thee.  He  is  that  guest  on  whom 
all  men  wrought  such  dishonour  in  the  halls.  But  long  ago 
Telemachus  was  ware  of  him,  that  he  was  within  the  house,  yet 
in  his  prudence  he  hid  the  counsels  of  his  father,  that  he 
might  take  vengeance  on  the  violence  of  the  haughty  wooers.' 

Thus  she  spake,  and  then  was  Penelope  glad,  and  leap- 
ing from  her  bed  she  fell  on  the  old  woman's  neck,  and 
let  fall  the  tears  from  her  eyelfds,  and  uttering  her  voice 
spake  to  her  winged  words  :  *  Come,  dear  nurse,  I  pray  thee, 
tell  me  all  the  truth,  if  indeed  he  hath  come  home  as  thou 
sayest,  how  he  hath  laid  his  hands  on  the  shameless  wooeis, 
he  being  but  one  man,  while  they  abode  ever  in  their  com-, 
panics  within  the  house.' 

Then  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  answered  her :  *  I  saw  not, 
I  wist  not,  only  I  heard  the  groaning  of  men  slain.  And 
we  in  an  inmost  place  of  the  well-builded  chambers  sat  all 
amazed,  and  the  close-fitted  doors  shut  in  the  room,  till  thy 
son  called  me  from  the  chamber,  for  his  father  sent  him  out 
to  that  end.  Then  I  found  Odysseus  standing  among  the 
slain,  who  around  him,  stretched  on  the  hard  floor,  lay  one 
upon  the  other  ;  it  would  have  comforted  thy  heart  to  see  him,  "j 
all  stained  like  a  lion  with  blood  and  soil  of  battle.  And  now  { 
are  all  the  wooers  gathered  in  an  heap  by  the  gates  of  the 
court,  while  he  is  purifying  his  fair  house  with  brimstone, 
and  hath  kindled  a  great  fire,  and  hath  sent  me  forth  to  call 
thee.  So  come  with  me,  that  ye  may  both  enter  into  your 
heart's  delight  *,  for  ye  have  suffered  much  affliction.    And 

*  Reading  OipSiiv  ....  &n(poTipoa, 


378  ODYSSEY  XXIII,  54-84. 

even  now  hath  this  thy  long  desire  been  fulfilled ;  thy  lord 
hath  come  alive  to  his  own  hearth,  and  hath  found  both  thee 
and  his  son  in  the  halls ;  and  the  wooers  that  wrought 
him  evil  he  hath  slain,  every  man  of  them  in  his 
house.' 

.  Then  wise  Penelope  answered  her :  'Dear  nurse,  boast 
not  yet  over  them  with  laughter.  Thou  knowest  how  wel- 
come the  sight  of  him  would  be  in  the  halls  to  all,  and  to  me 
in  chief,  and  to  his  son  that  we  got  between  us.  But  this  is 
no  true  tale,  as  thou  declarest  it,  nay  but  it  is  one  of  the 
deathless  gods  that  hath  slain  the  proud  wooers,  in  wrath  at 
their  bitter  insolence  and  evil  deeds.  For  they  honoured 
none  of  earthly  men,  neither  the  good  nor  yet  the  bad,  that 
came  among  them.  Wherefore  they  have  suffered  an  evil 
doom  through  their  own  infatuate  deeds.  But  Odysseus, 
far  away  hath  lost  his  homeward  path  to  the  Achaean  land, 
and  himse'f  is  lost.* 

Then  the  good  nurse  Eurycleia  made  answer  to  her:  *My 
child,  what  word  hath  escaped  the  door  of  thy  lips,  in  that 
thou  saidest  that  thy  lord,  who  is  even  now  within,  and  by  his 
own  hearth  stone,  would  return  no  more  ?  Nay,  thy  heart  is 
ever  hard  of  belief.  Go  to  now,  and  I  will  tell  thee  besides 
a  most  manifest  token,  even  the  scar  of  the  wound  that  the 
boar  on  a  time  dealt  him  with  his  white  tusk.  This  I  spied 
while  washing  his  feet,  and  fain  I  would  have  told  it  even  to 
thee,  but  he  laid  his  hand  on  my  mouth,  and  in  the  fulness 
of  his  wisdom  suffered  me  not  to  speak.  But  come  with  me 
and  I  will  stake  my  life  on  it;  and,  if  I  play  thee  false,  do 
thou  slay  me  by  a  death  most  pitiful.' 

Then  wise  Penelope  made  answer  to  her :  *  Dear  nurse,  it 
is  hard  for  thee,  how  wise  soever,  to  spy  out  the  purposes  of 
ihe  everlasting  gods.  None  the  less  let  us  go  to  my  child, 
that  I  may  see  the  wooers  dead,  and  him  that  slew  them/ 


ODYSSEY  XXin,  85-116.  ^)o^ 

With  that  word  she  went  down  from  the  upper  chamber, 
and  much  her  heart  debated,  whether  she  should  stand  apart, 
and  question  her  dear  lord  or  draw  nigh,  and  clasp  and  kiss 
his  head  and  hands.  But  when  she  had  come  within  and 
had  crossed  the  threshold  of  stone,  she  sat  down  over 
against  Odysseus,  in  the  light  of  the  fire,  by  the  further  wall. 
Now  he  was  sitting  by  the  tall  pillar,  looking  down  and  wait- 
ing to  know  if  perchance  his  noble  wife  would  speak  to  him, 
when  her  eyes  beheld  him.  But  she  sat  long  in  silence,  and 
amazement  came  upon  her  soul,  and  now  she  would  look 
upon  him  steadfastly  with  her  eyes,  and  now  again  she 
knew  him  not,  for  that  he  was  clad  in  vile  raiment.  And 
Telemachus  rebuked  her,  and  spake  and  hailed  her : 

*  Mother  mine,  ill  mother,  of  an  ungentle  heart,  why 
turnest  thou  thus  away  from  my  father,  and  dost  not  sit  by 
him  and  question  him  and  ask  him  all .?  No  other  woman 
in  the  world  would  harden  her  heart  to  stand  thus  aloof  from 
her  lord,  who  after  much  travail  and  sore  had  come  to  her  in 
the  twentieth  year  to  his  own  country.  But  thy  heart  is 
ever  harder  than  stone.' 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him,  saying:  *  Child,  my 
mind  is  amazed  within  me,  and  I  have  no  strength  to  speak, 
nor  to  ask  him  aught,  nay  nor  to  look  on  him  face  to 
face.  But  if  in  truth  this  be  Odysseus,  and  he  hath  indeed 
come  home,  verily  we  shall  be  ware  of  each  other  the  more 
surely,  for  we  have  tokens  that  we  twain  know,  even  we, 
secret  from  all  others.' 

So  she  spake,  and  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  smiled, 
and  quickly  he  spake  to  Telemachus  winged  words :  '  Tele- 
machus, leave  now  thy  mother  to  make  trial  of  me  within 
the  chambers  ;  so  shall  she  soon  come  to  a  better  knowledge 
than  heretofore.  But  now  I  go  filthy,  and  am  clad  in  vile 
raiment,  wherefore  she  has  me  in  dishonour,  and  as  yet  will 


380  oDvssEv  xxin,  I16-148. 

not  allow  that  I  am  he.  Let  us  then  advise  us  how  all  may 
be  for  the  very  best.  For  whoso  has  sluin  but  one  man  in  a 
land,  even  one  that  leaves  not  many  behind  him  to  take  up 
the  feud  for  him,  turns  outlaw  and  leaves  his  kindred  and  his 
own  country ;  but  we  have  slain  the  very  stay  of  the  city,  the 
men  who  were  far  the  best  of  all  the  noble  youths  in  Ithaca. 
So  this  I  bid  thee  consider.' 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  '  Father, 
see  thou  to  this,  for  they  say  that  thy  counsel  is  far  the  best 
among  men,  nor  might  any  other  of  mortal  men  contend 
with  thee.  But  right  eagerly  will  we  go  with  thee  now, 
and  I  think  we  shall  not  lack  prowess,  so  far  as  might 
is  ours.' 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying: 
'  Yea  now,  I  will  tell  on  what  wise  melhinks  it  is  best.  First, 
go  ye  to  the  bath  and  array  you  in  your  doublets,  and  bid 
the  maidens  in  the  chambers  to  take  to  them  their  garments. 
Then  let  the  di^ne  minstrel,  with  his  loud  lyre  in  hand,  lead 
off  for  us  the  measure  of  the  mirthful  dance.  So  shall  any 
man  that  hears  the  sound  from  without,  whether  a  wayfarer 
or  one  of  those  that  dwell  around,  say  that  it  is  a  wedding 
feast.  And  thus  the  slaughter  of  the  wooers  shall  not  be 
noised  abroad  through  the  town  before  we  go  forth  to  our 
well- wooded  farm  land.  Thereafter  shall  we  consider  what 
gainful  counsel  the  Olympian  may  vouchsafe  us.' 

So  he  spake,  and  they  gave  good  ear  and  hearkened  to 
him.  So  first  they  went  to  the  bath,  and  arrayed  them  in 
doublets,  and  the  women  were  apparelled,  and  the  divine 
minstrel  took  the  hollow  harp,  and  aroused  in  them  the 
desire  of  sweet  song  and  of  the  happy  dance.  Then  the  great 
hall  rang  round  them  with  the  sound  of  the  feet  of  dancing 
men  and  of  fair-girdled  women.  And  whoso  heard  it  from 
without  would  say : 


ODYSSEY  XXIII,  149-179.  381 

'  Surely  some  one  has  wedded  the  queen  of  many  wooers. 
Hard  of  heart  was  she,  nor  had  she  courage  to  keep 
the  great  house  of  her  gentle  lord  continually  till  his 
coming.* 

Even  so  men  spake,  and  knew  not  how  these  things  were 
ordained.  Meanwhile,  the  house-dame  Eurynome  had  bathed 
the  great-hearted  Odysseus  within  his  house,  and  anointed  him 
with  olive-oil,  and  cast  about  him  a  goodly  mantle  and  a 
doublet.  Moreover  Athene  shed  great  beauty  from  his  head 
dov/nwards,  and  made  him  greater  and  more  mighty  to  behold, 
and  from  his  head  caused  deep  curling  locks  to  flow,  like 
the  hyacinth  flower.  And  as  when  some  skilful  man  over- 
lays gold  upon  silver,  one  that  Hephaestus  and  Pallas 
Athene  have  taught  all  manner  of  craft,  and  full  of  grace  is 
his  handiwork,  even  so  did  Athene  shed  grace  about  his 
head  and  shoulders,  and  forth  from  the  bath  he  came,  in 
form  like  to  the  Immortals.  Then  he  sat  down  again  on  the 
high  seat,  whence  he  had  arisen,  over  against  his  wife,  and 
spake  to  her,  saying : 

*  Strange  lady,  surely  to  thee  above  all  womankind  the 
Olympians  have  given  a  heart  that  cannot  be  softened.  No 
other  woman  in  the  world  would  harden  her  heart  to  stand 
thus  aloof  from  her  husband,  who  after  much  travail  and  sore 
had  come  to  her,  in  the  twentieth  year,  to  his  own  country. 
Nay  come,  nurse,  strew  a  bed  for  me  to  lie  all  alone,  for 
assuredly  her  spirit  within  her  is  as  iron.' 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him  again  :  '  Strange  man, 
I  have  no  proud  thoughts  nor  do  I  think  scorn  of  thee,  nor 
am  I  too  greatly  astonied,  but  I  know  right  well  what  manner 
of  man  thou  wert,  when  thou  wentest  forth  out  of  Ithaca,  on 
the  long-oared  galley.  But  come,  Eurycleia,  spread  for  him 
the  good  bedstead  outside  the  stablished  bridal  chamber 
that   he  built  himself.     Thither  bring  ye  forth  the  good 


382  ODYSSEY  XXIII,  180-208. 

bedstead  and  cast  bedding  thereon,  even  fleeces  and  rugs 
and  shining  blankets/ 

So  she  spake  and  made  trial  of  her  lord,  but  Odysseus  in 
sore  displeasure  spake  to  his  true  wife,  saying  :  '  Verily  a 
bitter  word  is  this,  lady,  that  thou  hast  spoken.  Who  has 
set  my  bed  otherwhere  ?  Hard  it  would  be  for  one,  how 
skilled  so  ever,  unless  a  god  were  to  come  that  might  easily 
set  it  in  another  place,  if  so  he  would.  But  of  men  there  is 
none  living,  howsoever  strong  in  his  youth,  that  could  lightly 
upheave  it,  for  a  great  marvel  is  wrought  in  the  fashion  of 
the  bed,  and  it  was  I  that  made  it  and  none  other.  There 
was  growing  a  bush  of  olive,  long  of  leaf,  and  most  goodly 
of  growth,  within  the  inner  court,  and  the  stem  as  large  as  a 
pillar.  Round  about  this  I  built  the  chamber,  till  I  had 
finished  it,  with  stones  close  set,  and  I  roofed  it  over  well  and 
added  thereto  compacted  doors  fitting  well.  Next  I  sheared 
off"  all  the  light  wood  of  the  long-leaved  olive,  and  rough- 
hewed  the  trunk  upwards  from  the  root,  and  smoothed  it 
around  with  the  adze,  well  and  skilfully,  and  made  straight 
the  line  thereto  and  so  fashioned  it  into  the  bed  post, 
and  I  bored  it  all  with  the  auger.  Beginning  from  this  headr 
post,  I  wrought  at  the  bedstead  till  I  had  finished  it,  and 
made  it  fair  with  inlaid  work  of  gold  and  of  silver  and 
of  ivory.  Then  I  made  fast  therein  a  bright  purple  band 
of  oxhide.  Even  so  I  declare  to  thee  this  token,  and  I  know 
not,  lady,  if  the  bedstead  be  yet  fast  in  his  place,  or  if  some 
man  has  cut  away  the  stem  of  the  olive  tree,  and  set  the  bed- 
stead otherwhere.' 

So  he  spake,  and  at  once  her  knees  were  loosened,  and 
her  heart  melted  within  her,  as  she  knew  the  sure  tokens  that 
Odysseus  showed  her.  Then  she  fell  a  weeping,  and  ran 
straight  toward  him  and  cast  her  hands  about  his  neck, 
and  kissed  his  head  and  spake,  saying: 


ODYSSEY  XXIII,  207-241.  383 

*  Murmur  not  against  me,  Odysseus,  for  thou  wert  ever 
at  other  times  the  wisest  of  men.  It  is  the  gods  that  gave  us 
sorrow,  the  gods  who  were  jealous  that  we  should  abide 
together  and  have  joy  of  our  youth,  and  come  to  the 
threshold  of  old  age.  So  now  be  not  wroth  with  me  hereat 
nor  full  of  indignation,  because  I  did  not  welcome  thee 
gladly  as  now,  when  first  I  saw  thee.  For  always  my  heart 
within  my  breast  shuddered,  for  fear  lest  some  man  should 
come  and  deceive  me  with  his  words,  for  many  they  be  that 
devise  gainful  schemes  and  evil.  Nay  even  Argive  Helen, 
daughter  of  Zeus,  would  not  have  lain  with  a  stranger,  and 
taken  him  for  a  lover,  had  she  known  that  the  warlike  sons 
of  the  Achaeans  would  bring  her  home  again  to  her  own  dear 
country.  Howsoever,  it  was  the  god  that  set  her  upon  this 
shameful  deed ;  nor  ever,  ere  that,  did  she  lay  up  in  her  heart 
the  thought  01'  this  folly,  a  bitter  folly,  whence  on  us  too  first 
came  sorrow.  But  now  that  thou  hast  told  all  the  sure  tokens 
of  our  bed,  which  never  was  seen  by  mortal  man,  save  by 
thee  and  me  and  one  maiden  only,  the  daughter  of  Actor, 
that  my  father  gave  me  ere  yet  I  had  come  hither,  she  who 
kept  the  doors  of  our  strong  bridal  chamber,  even  now  dost 
thou  bend  my  soul,  all  ungentle  as  it  is.' 

Thus  she  spake,  and  in  his  heart  she  stirred  yet  a  greater 
longing  to  lament,  and  he  wept  as  Ke  embraced  his  beloved 
wife  and  true.     And   even  as  when   the  sight  of  land  is\ 
welcome  to  swimmers,  whose  well- wrought  ship  Poseidon  hath   1 
smitten  on  the  deep,  all  driven  with  the  wind  and  swelling  waves,  / 
and  but  a  remnant  hath  escaped  the  grey  sea-water  and  swum 
to  the  shore,  and  their  bodies  are  all  crusted  with  the  brine, 
and  gladly  have  they  set  foot  on  land  and  escaped  an  evil  end; 
so  welcome  to  her  was  the  sight  of  her  lord,  and  her  white 
arms  she  would  never  quite  let  go  from  his  neck.     And  now 
"would  the  rosy-fingered  Dawn  have  risen  upon  their  weeping, 


3^4  ODYSSEY  XXIII,  242-275. 


but  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  had  other  thoughts.  The 
night  she  held  long  in  the  utmost  West,  and  on  the  other  side 
she  stayed  the  golden-throned  Dawn  by  the  stream  Oceanus, 
and  suffered  her  not  to  harness  the  swift-footed  steeds  that 
bear  light  to  men,  Lampus  and  Phaethon,  the  steeds  ever 
young,  that  bring  the  morning. 

Then  at  the  last,  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  spake  to  his 
wife,  saying :  *  Lady,  we  have  not  yet  come  to  the  issue  of 
all  our  labours ;  but  still  there  will  be  toil  unmeasured,  long 
and  difficult,  that  I  must  needs  bring  to  a  full  end.  Even  so 
the  spirit  of  Teiresias  foretold  to  me,  on  that  day  when  I  went 
down  into  the  house  of  Hades,  to  inquire  after  a  returning 
for  myself  and  my  company.  Wherefore  come,  lady,  let  us 
to  bed,  that  forthwith  we  may  take  our  joy  of  rest  beneath 
the  spell  of  sweet  sleep.' 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him  :  *  Thy  bed  verily 
shall  be  ready  whensoever  thy  soul  desires  it,  forasmuch 
as  the  gods  have  indeed  caused  thee  to  come  back  to 
thy  stablished  home  and  thine  own  country.  But  now 
that  thou  hast  noted  it  and  the  god  has  put  it  into  thy 
heart,  come,  tell  me  of  this  ordeal,  for  methinks  the  day  will 
come  when  I  must  learn  it,  and  timely  knowledge  is  no  hurt.* 

And  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  her  saying: 
*  Ah,  why  now  art  thou  so  instant  with  me  to  declare  it  ? 
Yet  I  will  tell  thee  all  and  hide  nought.  Howbeit  thy  heart 
shall  have  no  joy  of  it,  as  even  I  myself  have  no  pleasure 
therein.  For  Teiresias  bade  me  fare  to  many  cities  of  men, 
carrying  a  shapen  oar  in  my  hands,  till  I  should  come  to  such 
men  as  know  not  the  sea,  neither  eat  meat  savoured  with  salt, 
nor  have  they  knowledge  of  ships  of  purple  cfieek  nor  of 
shapen  oars,  which  serve  for  wings  to  ships.  And  he  told 
me  this  most  manifest  token,  which  I  will  not  hide  from  thee. 
In  the  day  when  another  wayfaier  should  meet  me  and  say  that 


ODVSSEV  XX III,  275-307.  385 


I  had  a  winnowing  fan  on  my  stout  shoulder,  even  then  he  bade 
me  make  fast  my  shapen  oar  in  the  earth,  and  do  goodly  sacri     ) 
fice  to  the  lord  Poseidon,  even  with  a  ram  and  a  bull  and  a  boar,   | 
the  mate  of  swine,  and  depart  for  home,  and  offer  holy  heca-  | 
tombs  to  the  deathless  gods,  that  keep  the  wide  heaven,  to  ^^ 
each  in  order  due.     And  from  the  sea  shall  mine  own  death 
come,  the  gentlest  death  that  may  be,  which  shall  end  me, 
foredone  with   smooth   old  age,  and  the   folk   shall  dwell 
happily  around.     All  this,  he  said,  was  to  be  fulfilled.' 

Then  wise  Penelope  answered  him  saying :  '  If  indeed  the 
gods  will  bring  about  for  thee  a  happier  old  age  at  the  last, 
then  is  there  hope  that  thou  mayest  yet  have  an  escape 
from  evil.' 

Thus  they  spake  one  to  the  other.  Meanwhile,  Eurynome 
and  the  nurse  spread  the  bed  with  soft  coverlets,  by  the 
light  of  the  torches  burning.  But  when  they  had  busied 
them  and  spread  the  good  bed,  the  ancient  nurse  went  back 
to  her  chamber  to  lie  down,  and  Eurynome,  the  bower- 
maiden,  guided  them  on  their  way  to  the  couch,  with  torches 
in  her  hands,  and  when  she  had  led  them  to  the  bridal- 
chamber  she  departed.  And  so  they  came  gladly  to  the 
rites  of  their  bed,  as  of  old.  But  Telemachus,  and  the 
neatherd,  and  the  swineherd  stayed  their  feet  from  dancing, 
and  made  the  women  to  cease,  and  themselves  gat  them  to 
rest  through  the  shadowy  halls. 

Now  when  the  twain  had  taken  their  fill  of  sweet  love, 
they  had  delight  in  the  tales,  which  they  told  one  to  the 
other.  The  fair  lady  spoke  of  all  that  she  had  endured 
in  the  halls  at  the  sight  of  the  ruinous  throng  of  wooers, 
who  for  her  sake  slew  many  cattle,  kine  and  goodly  sheep ; 
and  many  a  cask  of  wine  was  broached.  And  in  turn, 
Odysseus,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  recounted  all  the  griefs  he 
had  wrought  on  men,  and  all  his  own  travail  and  sorrow, 

c  c 


^H6  ODYSSEY  XXIII,  308-341. 

and  she  was  delighted  with  the  story,  and  sweet  sleep  fell 
not  upon  her  eyelids  till  the  tale  was  ended. 

He  began  by  setting  forth  how  he  overcame  the  Ci- 
cones,  and  next  arrived  at  the  rich  land  of  the  Lotus-eaters, 
and  all  that  the  Cyclops  wrought,  and  what  a  price  he  got 
from  him  for  the  good  companions  that  he  devoured,  and 
showed  no  pity.  Then  how  he  came  to  Aeolus,  who  re- 
ceived him  gladly  and  sent  him  on  his  way ;  but  it  was  not 
yet  ordained  that  he  should  reach  his  own  country,  for  the 
storm-wind  seized  him  again,  and  bare  him  over  the  teeming 
seas,  making  grievous  moan.  Next  how  he  came  to  Tele- 
pylus  of  the  Laestrygonians,  who  brake  his  ships  and  slew  all 
his  goodly-greaved  companions,  and  Odysseus  only  escaped 
with  his  black  ship.  Then  he  told  all  the  wiles  and  many 
contrivances  of  Circe,  and  how  in  a  benched  ship  he  fared  to 
the  dank  house  of  Hades,  to  seek  to  the  soul  of  Theban 
Teiresias.  There  he  beheld  all  those  that  had  been  his  com- 
panions, and  his  mother  who  bore  him  and  nurtured  him,  while 
yet  he  was  a  little  one.  Then  how  he  heard  the  song  of  the 
full-voiced  Sirens,  and  came  to  the  Rocks  Wandering,  and 
to  terrible  Charybdis,  and  to  Scylla,  that  never  yet  have  men 
avoided  scatheless.  Next  he  told  how  his  company  slew  the 
kine  of  Helios,  and  how  Zeus,  that  thunders  on  high,  smote 
the  swift  ship  with  the  flaming  bolt,  and  the  good  crew 
perished  all  together,  and  he  alone  escaped  from  evil  fates. 
•And  how  he  came  to  the  isle  Ogygia,  and  to  the  nymph 
Calypso,  who  kept  him  there  in  her  hollow  caves,  longing  to 
have  him  for  her  lord,  and  nurtured  him  and  said  that  she 
would  make  him  never  to  know  death  or  age  all  his  days : 
yet  she  never  won  his  heart  within  his  breast.  Next  how  with 
great  toil  he  came  to  the  Phaeacians,  who  gave  him  all  wor- 
ship heartily,  as  to  a  god,  and  sent  him  with  a  ship  to  his  own 
dear  country,  with  gifts  of  bronze,  and  of  gold,  and  raiment 


ODYSSEY  XXIII,  342-372.  387 

in  plenty.  This  was  the  last  word  of  the  tale,  when  sweet 
sleep  came  speedily  upon  him,  sleep  that  loosens  the  limbs 
of  men,  unknitting  the  cares  of  his  soul. 

Then  the  goddess,  grey-eyed  Athene,  turned  to  new 
thoughts.  When  she  conceived  that  Odysseus  had  taken 
his  fill  of  love  and  sleep,  straightway  she  aroused  from  out 
Oceanus  the  golden-throned  Dawn,  to  bear  light  to  men. 
Then  Odysseus  gat  him  up  from  his  soft  bed,  and  laid  this 
charge  on  his  wife,  saying : 

'  Lady,  already  have  we  had  enough  of  labours,  thou  and 
I;  thou,  in  weeping  here,  and  longing  for  my  troublous 
return,  I,  while  Zeus  and  the  other  gods  bound  me  fast  in 
pain,  despite  my  yearning  after  home,  away  from  mine  own 
country.  But  now  that  we  both  have  come  to  the  bed  of  our 
desire,  take  thou  thought  for  the  care  of  my  wealth  within  the 
halls.  But  as  for  the  sheep  that  the  proud  wooers  have  slain, 
I  myself  will  lift  many  more  as  spoil,  and  others  the  Achaeans 
will  give,  till  they  fill  all  my  folds.  But  now,  behold,  I  go 
to  the  well-wooded  farm  land,  to  see  my  good  father,  who 
for  love  of  me  has  been  in  sorrow  continually.  And  this 
charge  I  lay  on  thee,  lady,  too  wise  though  thou  art  to  need 
it.  Quickly  will  the  bruit  go  forth  with  the  rising  sun,  the  bruit 
concerning  the  wooers,  whom  I  slew  in  the  halls.  Wherefore 
ascend  with  the  women  thy  handmaids  into  the  upper  chamber, 
and  sit  there  and  look  on  no  man,  nor  ask  any  question.' 

Therewith  he  girded  on  his  shoulder  his  goodly  armour, 
and  roused  Telemachus  and  the  neatherd  and  the  swine- 
herd, and  bade  them  all  take  weapons  of  war  in  their  hands. 
So  they  were  not  disobedient  to  his  word,  but  clad  them- 
selves in  mail,  and  opened  the  doors  and  went  forth,  and 
Odysseus  led  the  way.  And  now  there  was  light  over  all  the 
earth ;  but  them  Athene  hid  in  night,  and  quickly  conducted 
out  of  the  town. 

cc  a 


r 


.f'i^ 


BOOK    XXIV. 

The  Ithacans  bury  the  wooers,  and  sitting  in  council  resolve  on  refenge. 
And  coming  near  the  house  of  Laertes,  are  met  by  Odysseus,  and  Laertes 
with  Telemachus  and  servants,  the  whole  number  twelve,  and  are  over- 
come, and  submit. 

Now  Cyllenian  Hermes  called  forth  from  the  halls  the 
souls  of  the  wooers,  and   he  held   in  his  hand  his  wand 
that    is   fair  and   golden,  wherewith  he  lulls   the   eyes  of 
men,   of  whomso    he   will,   while    others    again    he   even 
(  wakens   out   of  sleep.     Herewith   he  roused  and   led    the 
0>  souls  who  followed  gibbering.     And  even  as  bats  flit  gibber- 
ing in   the   secret  place   of  a  wondrous   cave,  when  one 
|0^  has  fallen  down  out  of  the  rock  from  the  cluster,  and  they 

^^  cling  each  to  each  up  aloft,  even  so  the  souls  gibbered  as 

^.they  fared  together,  and  Hermes,  the  helper,  led  them  down 
'  the  dank  ways.  Past  the  streams  of  Oceanus  and  the  White 
Rock,  past  the  gates  of  the  Sun  they  sped  and  the  land 
of  dreams,  and  soon  they  came  to  the  mead  of  asphodel, 
where  dwell  the  souls,  the  phantoms  of  men  outworn. 
There  they  found  the  soul  of  Achilles  son  of  Peleus,  and 
the  souls  of  Patroclus,  and  of  noble  Antilochus,  and  of  Aias, 
who  in  face  and  form  was  goodliest  of  all  the  Danaans  after 
the  noble  son  of  Peleus. 

So  these  were  flocking  round  Achilles,  and  the  spirit  of 
Agamemnon,  son  of  Atreus,  drew  nigh  sorrowful;  and 
about  him  were  gathered  all  the  other  shades,  as  many  as 
perished  with  him  in  the  house  of  Aegisthus,  and  met  their 
doom.  Now  the  soul  of  the  son  of  Peleus  spake  to  him 
first,  saying : 

'  Son  of  Atreus,  "verily  we  deemed  that  thou  above  all 


ODYSSEY  XXIV,  24-53.  3^9 

Other  heroes  wast  evermore  dear  to  Zeus,  whose  joy  is  in  the 
thunder,  seeing  that  thou  wast  lord  over  warriors,  many  and 
mighty  men,  in  the  land  of  the  Trojans  where  we  Achaeans 
suffered  affliction.  But  lo,  thee  too  was  deadly  doom  to  visit 
early,*  the  doom  that  none  avoids  of  all  men  born.  Ah, 
would  that  in  the  fulness  of  thy  princely  honour,  thou  hadst 
met  death  and  fate  in  the  land  of  the  Trojans  !  So  would 
all  the  Achaean  host  have  builded  thee  a  barrow,  yea  and  for 
thy  son  thou  wouldst  have  won  great  glory  in  the  aftertime. 
But  now  it  has  been  decreed  for  thee  to  perish  by  a  most 
pitiful  death/ 

Then  the  soul  of  the  son  of  Atreus  answered,  and  spake : 
*  Happy  art  thou  son  of  Peleus,  godlike  Achilles,  that  didst 
die  in  Troy-land  far  from  Argos,  and  about  thee  fell  others, 
the  best  of  the  sons  of  Trojans  and  Achaeans,  fighting 
for  thy  body ;  but  thou  in  the  whirl  of  dust  layest  mighty 
and  mightily  fallen,  forgetful  of  thy  chivalry.  And  we 
strove  the  livelong  day,  nor  would  we  ever  have  ceased  from 
the  fight,  if  Zeus  had  not  stayed  us  with  a  tempest.  Anon 
when  we  had  borne  thee  to  the  ships  from  out  of  the  battle, 
we  laid  thee  on  a  bier  and  washed  thy  fair  flesh  clean  with 
warm  water  and  unguents,  and  around  thee  the  Danaans 
shed  many  a  hot  tear  and  shore  their  hair.  And  forth 
from  the  sea  came  thy  mother  with  the  deathless  maidens 
of  the  waters,  when  they  heard  the  tidings ;  and  a  wonderful 
wailing  rose  over  the  deep,  and  trembling  fell  on  the  limbs  of 
all  the  Achaeans.  Yea,  and  they  would  have  sprung  up  and 
departed  to  the  hollow  ships,  had  not  one  held  them  back 
that  knew  much  lore  from  of  old,  Nestor,  whose  counsel 
proved  heretofore  the  best.  Out  of  his  good  will  he  made 
harangue,  and  spake  among  them : 

•  Reading  ir^wt. 


390  onvssEV  XX] V,  54-84. 


V. 


*  "  Hold,  ye  Argives,  flee  not,  young  lords  of  the  Achaeans. 
Lo,  his  mother  from  the  sea  is  she  that  comes,  with  the 
deathless  maidens  of  the  waters,  to  behold  the  face  of  her 
dead  son." 

*  So  he  spake,  and  the  high-hearted  Achaeans  ceased  from 
their  flight.  Then  round  thee  stood  the  daughters  of  the 
ancient  one  of  the  sea,  holding  a  pitiful  lament,  and  they 
clad  thee  about  in  raiment  incorruptible.  And  all  the  nine 
Muses  one  to  the  other  replying  with  sweet  voices  began  the 
dirge ;  there  thou  wouldest  not  have  seen  an  Argive  but  wept, 
so  mightily  rose  up  the  clear  chant.  Thus  for  seventeen  days 
and  nights  continually  did  we  all  bewail  thee,  immortal 
gods  and  mortal  men.  On  the  eighteenth  day  we  gave  thy 
body  to  the  flames,  and  many  well-fatted  sheep  we  slew 
around  thee,  and  kine  of  shambling  gait.  So  thou  wert 
burned  in  the  garments  of  the  gods,  and  in  much  unguents 
and  in  sweet  honey,  and  many  heroes  of  the  Achaeans 
moved  mail-clad  around  the  pyre  when  thou  wast  burning, 
both  footmen  and  horse,  and  great  was  the  noise  that  arose. 
But  when  the  flame  of  Hephaestus  had  utterly  abolished 
thee,  lo,  in   the  morning   we  gathered  together  thy  white 

^  bones,  Achilles,,and  bestowed  them  in  unmixed  wine  and  in 
unguents.  Thy  mother  gave  a  twy-handled  golden  urn,  and 
said  that  it  was  the  gift  of  Dionysus,  and  the  workmanship 
of  renowned  Hephaestus.  Therein  lie  thy  white  bones, 
great  Achilles,  and  mingled  therewith  the  bones  of  Patro- 
clus  son  of  Menoetias,  that  is  dead,  but  apart  is  the  dust  of 
Antilochus,  whom  thou  didst  honour  above  all  thy  other 
companions,  after  Patroclus  that  was  dead.  Then  over  them 
did  we  pile  a  great  and  goodly  tomb  ",  we  the  holy  host  of 
Argive  warriors,  high  on  a  jutting  headland  over  wide 
Hellespont,  that  it  might  be  far  seen  from  off  the  sea  by 
men  that  now  are,  and  by  those   that  shall   be  hereafter. 


OD  YSSE  V  XXIV,  85-115.  391 

Then  thy  mother  asked  the  gods  for  glorious  prizes  in  the 
games,  and  set  them  in  the  midst  of  the  lists  for  the  cham- 
pions of  the  Achaeans.  In  days  past  thou  hast  been  at  the 
funeral  games  of  many  a  hero,  whenso,  after  some  king's 
death,  the  young  men  gird  themselves  and  make  them  ready 
for  the  meed  of  victory ;  but  couldst  thou  have  seen  these  gifts 
thou  wouldst  most  have  marvelled  in  spirit,  such  glorious 
prizes  did  the  goddess  set  there  to  honour  thee,  even  Thetis, 
the  silver-footed ;  for  very  dear  wert  thou  to  the  gods.  Thus 
not  even  in  death  hast  thou  lost  thy  name,  but  to  thee  shall 
there  be  a  fair  renown  for  ever  among  all  men,  Achilles.  But 
what  profit  have  I  now  herein,  that  I  have  wound  up  the  clew 
of  war,  for  on  my  return  Zeus  devised  for  me  an  evil  end 
at  the  hands  of  Aegisthus  and  my  wife  accursed  ?' 

So  they  spake  one  to  the  other.  And  nigh  them  came  the 
Messenger,  the  slayer  of  Argos,  leading  down  the  ghosts  of  -PC^*"^'^''''^ 
the  wooers  by  Odysseus  slain,  and  the  two  heroes  were 
amazed  at  the  sight  and  went  straight  toward  them.  And 
the  soul  of  Agamemnon,  son  of  Atreus,  knew  the  dear  son 
of  Melaneus,  renowned  Amphimedon,  who  had  been  his 
host,  having  his  dwelling  in  Ithaca.  The  soul  of  the  son  of 
Atreus  spake  to  him  first,  saying : 

'  Amphimedon,  what  hath  befallen  you,  that  ye  have  come 
beneath  the  darkness  of  earth,  all  of  you  picked  men  and  of 
like  age  ?  it  is  even  as  though  one  should  choose  out  and 
gather  together  the  best  warriors  in  a  city.  Did  Poseidon  ^ 
smite  you  in  your  ships  and  rouse  up  contrary  winds  and  the  / 
long  waves?  Or  did  unfriendly  men,  perchance,  do  you  hurt 
upon  the  land  as  ye  were  cutting  off  their  oxen  and  fair 
flocks  of  sheep,  or  while  they  fought  to  defend  their  city  and 
the  women  thereof?  Answer  and  tell  me,  for  I  avow  me  a 
friend  of  thy  house.  Rememberest  thou  not  the  day  when  I 
came  to  your  house  in  Ithaca  with  godlike  Mcnelaus,  to  urge 


392  ODVSSEV  XXIF,   I17-144. 

Odysseus  to  follow  with  me  to  Ilios  on  the  decked  ships  ? 
And  it  was  a  full  month  ere  we  had  sailed  all  across  the 
wide  sea,  for  scarce  could  we  win  to  our  cause  Odysseus, 
waster  of  cities/ 

Then  the  ghost  of  Amphimedon  answered  him,  and 
spake :  '  Most  famous  son  of  Atreus,  king  of  men,  Aga- 
memnon, I  remember  all  these  things,  O  fosterling  of  Zeus, 
as  thou  declarest  them,  and  I  in  turn  will  tell  thee  all  the  tale 
well  and  truly,  even  our  death  and  evil  end,  on  what  wise  it 
befell.  We  wooed  the  wife  of  Odysseus  that  was  long  afar, 
and  she  neither  refused  the  hated  bridal  nor  was  minded  to 
make  an  end,  devising  for  us  death  and  black  fate.  Also  this 
other  wile  she  contrived  in  her  heart.  She  set  up  in  her 
halls  a  mighty  web,  fine  of  woof  and  very  wide,  whereat  she 
would  weave,  and  anon  she  spake  among  us : 

*  "  Ye  princely  youths,  my  wooers,  now  that  goodly  Odys- 
seus is  dead,  do  ye  abide  patiently,  how  eager  soever  to 
speed  on  this  marriage  of  mine,  till  I  finish  the  robe.  I 
would  not  that  the  threads  perish  to  no  avail,  even  this 
shroud  for  the  hero  Laertes,  against  the  day  when  the  ruinous 
doom  shall  bring  him  low,  of  death  that  lays  men  at 
their  length.  So  shall  none  of  the  Achaean  women  in  the 
land  count  it  blame  in  me,  as  well  might  be,  were  he  to 
he  without  a  winding-sheet,  a  man  that  had  gotten  great 
possessions." 

*  So  spake  she,  and  our  high  hearts  consented  thereto.  So 
then  in  the  daytime  she  would  weave  the  mighty  web,  and 
in  the  night  unravel  the  same,  when  she  had  let  place  the 
torches  by  her.  Thus  for  the  space  of  three  years  she  hid 
the  thing  by  guile  and  won  the  minds  of  the  Achaeans ;  but 
when  the  fourth  year  arrived  and  the  seasons  came  round, 
as  the  months  waned  and  many  days  were  accomplished, 
then  it  was  that  one  of  her  women  who  knew  all  declared  it, 


ODYSSEY  XXIV,  145-178.  393 

and  we  found  her  unravelling  the  splendid  web.  Thus  she 
finished  it  perforce  and  sore  against  her  will.  Now  when 
she  brought  the  robe  to  light,  after  she  had  woven  the  great 
web  and  washed  it,  and  it  shone  even  as  sun  or  moon,  at  that 
very  hour  some  evil  god  led  Odysseus,  I  know  not  whence,  to 
the  upland  farm,  where  the  swineherd  abode  in  his  dwelling. 
Thither  too  came  the  dear  son  of  divine  Odysseus  out  of 
sandy  Pylos,  voyaging  with  his  black  ship.  These  twain 
framed  an  evil  death  for  the  wooers,  and  came  to  the 
renowned  town.  Odysseus  verily  came  the  later,  and  Telem- 
achus  went  before  and  led  the  way.  Now  the  swineherd 
brought  Odysseus  clad  in  vile  raiment,  in  the  likeness  of  a 
beggar,  a  wretched  man  and  an  old,  leaning  on  a  staff,  and 
behold,  he  was  clad  about  in  sorry  raiment.  And  none  of  us, 
not  even  the  elders,  could  know  him  for  that  he  was,  on  this 
his  sudden  appearing,  but  with  evil  words  we  assailed  him 
and  hurled  things  at  him.  Yet  for  a  while  he  hardened  his 
heart  to  endure  both  the  hurlings  and  the  evil  words  in  his 
own  halls ;  but  at  the  last,  when  the  spirit  of  Zeus,  lord  of  the 
aegis,  aroused  him,  by  the  help  of  Telemachus  he  took  up  all 
the  goodly  weapons,  and  laid  them  by  in  the  inner  chamber 
and  drew  the  bolts.  Next  in  his  great  craft  he  bade  his  wife 
to  offer  his  bow  and  store  of  grey  iron  to  the  wooers  to  be 
the  weapons  of  our  contest,  luckless  that  we  were,  and  the 
beginning  of  death.  Now  not  one  of  us  could  stretch  the 
string  of  the  strong  bow;  far  short  we  fell  of  that  might. 
But  when  the  great  bow  came  to  the  hands  of  Odysseus,  then 
we  all  clamoured  and  forbade  to  give  him  the  bow,  how  much 
soever  he  might  speak,  but  Telemachus  alone  was  instant  with 
him  and  commanded  him  to  take  it.  Then  he  took  the  bow 
into  his  hands,  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus,  and  lighdy 
he  strung  it,  and  sent  the  arrow  through  the  iron.  Then 
straight  he  went  to  the  threshold  and  there  took  his  stand, 


394  ODVSSEV  XXIV,  179-210. 

and  poured  forth  the  swift  arrows,  glancing  terribly  around, 
and  smote  the  king  Antinous.  Thereafteron  the  others  heletfly 
his  bolts,  winged  for  death,  with  straight  aim,  and  the  wooers 
fell  thick  one  upon  another.  Then  was  it  known  how  that 
some  god  was  their  helper,  for  pressing  on  as  their  passion 
drave  them,  they  slew  the  men  right  and  left  through  the  halls, 
and  thence  there  arose  a  hideous  moaning,  as  heads  were 
smitten  and  the  floor  all  ran  with  blood.  So  we  perished, 
Agamemnon,  and  even  now  our  bodies  lie  uncared  for  in  the 
halls  of  Odysseus,  for  the  friends  of  each  one  at  home  as  yet 
know  nought,  even  they  who  might  wash  the  black-clotted 
blood  out  of  our  wounds,  and  lay  out  the  bodies  and  wail  the 
dirge,  for  that  is  the  due  of  the  dead.' 

Then  the  ghost  of  the  son  of  Atreus  answered  him :  *  Ah, 
happy  son  of  Laertes,  Odysseus  of  many  devices,  yea,  for 
a  wife  most  excellent  hast  thou  gotten,  so  good  was  the 
wisdom  of  constant  Penelope  daughter  of  Icarius,  that  was 
duly  mindful  of  Odysseus,  her  gentle  lord.  Wherefore 
the  fame  of  her  virtue  shall  never  perish,  but  the  immortals 
will  make  a  gracious  song  in  the  ears  of  men  on  earth  to  the 
fame  of  constant  Penelope.  In  far  other  wise  did  the 
daughter  of  Tyndareus  devise  ill  deeds,  and  slay  her  gentle 
lord,  and  hateful  shall  the  song  of  her  be  among  men,  and 
an  evil  repute  hath  she  brought  upon  all  womankind,  even 
on  the  upright.* 

Even  so  these  twain  spake  one  to  the  other,  standing  in 
the  house  of  Hades,  beneath  the  secret  places  of  the  earth. 

Now  when  those  others  had  gone  down  from  the  city, 
quickly  they  came  to  the  rich  and  well-ordered  farm  land  of 
Laertes,  that  he  had  won  for  himself  of  old,  as  the  prize  of 
great  toil  in  war.  There  was  his  house,  and  all  about  it  ran 
the  huts  wherein  the  thralls  were  wont  to  eat  and  dwell  and 
sleep,  bondsmen  that  worked  his  will.    And  in  the  house 


ODYSSEY  XXIV,  211-243.  395 

there  was  an  old  Sicilian  woman,  who  diligently  cared  for  the 
old  man,  in  the  upland  far  from  the  city.  There  Odysseus 
spake  to  his  thralls  and  to  his  son,  saying : 

'  Do  ye  now  get  you  within  the  well-builded  house,  and 
quickly  sacrifice  the  best  of  the  swine  for  the  midday  meal, 
but  I  will  make  trial  of  my  father,  whether  he  will  know  me 
again  and  be  aware  of  me  when  he  sees  me,  or  know  me 
not,  so  long  have  I  been  away/ 

Therewith  he  gave  the  thralls  his  weapons  of  war.  Then 
they  went  speedily  to  the  house,  while  Odysseus  drew  near 
to  the  fruitful  vineyard  to  make  trial  of  his  father.  Now  he 
found  not  Dolius  there,  as  he  went  down  into  the  great 
garden,  nor  any  of  the  thralls  nor  of  their  sons.  It  chanced 
that  they  had  all  gone  to  gather  stones  for  a  garden  fence, 
and  the  old  man  at  their  head.  So  he  found  his  father  alone 
in  the  terraced  vineyard,  digging  about  a  plant.  He  was 
clothed  in  a  filthy  doublet,  patched  and  unseemly,  with 
clouted  leggings  of  oxhide  bound  about  his  legs,  against  the 
scratches  of  the  thorns,  and  long  sleeves  over  his  hands  by 
reason  of  the  brambles,  and  on  his  head  he  wore  a  goatskin 
cap,  and  so  he  nursed  his  sorrow.  Now  when  the  steadfast 
goodly  Odysseus  saw  his  father  thus  wasted  with  age  and 
in  great  grief  of  heart,  he  stood  still  beneath  a  tall  pear  tree 
and  let  fall  a  tear.  Then  he  communed  with  his  heart  and 
soul,  whether  he  should  fall  on  his  father's  neck  and  kiss 
him,  and  tell  him  all,  how  he  had  returned  and  come  to  his 
own  country,  or  whether  he  should  first  question  him  and 
prove  him  in  every  word.  And  as  he  thought  within  himself, 
this  seemed  to  him  the  better  way,  namely,  first  to  prove  his 
father  and  speak  to  him  sharply.  So  with  this  intent  the 
goodly  Odysseus  went  up  to  him.  Now  he  was  holding 
his  head  down  and  kept  digging  about  the  plant,  while  his 
renowned  son  stood  by  him  and  spake,  saying : 


39<5  ODVSSEY  XXIV,  244-276. 


*  Old  man,  thou  hast  no  lack  of  skill  in  tending  a  garden ; 
lo,  thou  carest  well  for  all*,  nor  is  there  aught  whatsoever, either 
plant  or  fig-tree,  or  vine,  yea,  or  olive,  or  pear,  or  garden-bed 
in  all  the  close,  that  is  not  well  seen  to.  Yet  another  thing 
will  I  tell  thee  and  lay  not  up  wrath  thereat  in  thy  heart. 
Thyself  art  scarce  so  well  cared  for,  but  a  pitiful  old  age  is 
on  thee,  and  withal  thou  art  withered  and  unkempt,  and  clad 
unseemly.  It  cannot  be  to  punish  thy  sloth  that  thy  master 
cares  not  for  thee;  there  shows  nothing  of  the  slave  about  thy 
face  and  stature,  for  thou  art  like  a  kingly  man,  even  like 
one  who  should  lie  soft,  when  he  has  washed  and  eaten  .veil, 
as  is  the  manner  of  the  aged.  But  come  declare  me  this 
and  plainly  tell  it  all.  Whose  thrall  art  thou,  and  whose 
garden  dost  thou  tend  ?  Tell  me  moreover  truly,  that  I  may 
surely  know,  if  it  be  indeed*  to  Ithaca  that  I  am  now  come,  as 
one  yonder  told  me  who  met  with  me  but  now  on  the  way 
hither.  He  was  but  of  little  understanding,  for  he  deigned 
not  to  tell  me  all  nor  to  heed  my  saying,  when  I  questioned 
him  concerning  my  friend,  whether  indeed  he  is  yet  alive  or 
is  even  now  dead  and  within  the  house  of  Hades.  For  I 
will  declare  it  and  do  thou  mark  and  listen :  once  did  I  kindly 
entreat  a  man  in  mine  own  dear  country,  who  came  to  our 
home,  and  never  yet  has  any  mortal  been  dearer  of  all  the 
strangers  that  have  drawn  to  my  house  from  afar.  He  de- 
clared him  to  be  by  lineage  from  out  of  Ithaca,  and  said  that 
his  own  father  was  Laertes  son  of  Arceisius.  So  I  led  him 
to  our  halls  and  gave  him  good  entertainment,  with  all 
loving-kindness,  out  of  the  plenty  that  was  within.  Such  gifts 
too  I  gave  him  as  are  the  due  of  guests ;  of  well  wrought 
gold  I  gave  him  seven  talents,  and  a  mixing  bowl  of 
flowered  work,  all  of  silver,  and   twelve  cloaks  of  single 

*  Supplying  opxarov  from  the  preceding  clause  as  object  to  6x«. 
Other  constructions  are  possible. 


ODYSSEY  XXIV,  276-308.  397 


fold,  and  as  many  coverlets,  and  as  many  goodly  mantles 
and  doublets  to  boot,  and  besides  all  these,  four  women 
skilled  in  all  fair  works  and  most  comely,  the  women  of  his 
choice.' 

Then  his  father  answered  him,  weeping :  *  Stranger,  thou 
art  verily  come  to  that  country  whereof  thou  askest,  but 
outrageous  men  and  froward  hold  it.  And  these  thy  gifts,  thy 
coundess  gifts,  thou  didst  bestow  in  vain.  For  if  thou  hadst 
found  that  man  yet  living  in  the  land  of  Ithaca  he  would  have 
sent  thee  oji  thy  way  with  good  return  of  thy  presents,  and 
with  all  hospitality,  as  is  due  to  the  man  that  begins  the 
kindness.  But  come,  declare  me  this  and  plainly  tell  me  all ; 
how  many  years  are  passed  since  thou  didst  entertain  him, 
thy  guest  ill-fated  and  my  child, — if  ever  such  an  one  there 
was, — hapless  man,  whom  far  from  his  friends  and  his  country's 
soil,  the  fishes,  it  may  be,  have  devoured  in  the  deep  sea,  or 
on  the  shore  he  has  fallen  the  prey  of  birds  and  beasts.  His 
mother  wept  not  over  him  nor  clad  him  for  burial,  nor  his 
father,  we  that  begat  him.  Nor  did  his  bride,  whom  men 
sought  with  rich  gifts,  the  constant  Penelope,  bewail  her 
lord  upon  the  bier,  as  was  meet,  nor  closed  his  eyes,  as  is 
the  due  of  the  departed.  Moreover,  tell  me  this  truly,  that 
I  may  surely  know,  who  art  thou  and  whence  of  the  sons 
of  men  ?  Where  is  thy  city  and  where  are  they  that  begat  thee? 
Where  now  is  thy  swift  ship  moored,  that  brought  thee  thither 
with  thy  godlike  company  ?  Hast  thou  come  as  a  passenger 
on  another's  ship,  while  they  set  thee  ashore  and  went  away? 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him,  saying: 
*Yea  now,  I  will  tell  thee  all  most  plainly.  From  out  of 
Alybas  I  come,  where  I  dwell  in  a  house  renowned,  and  am  the 
son  of  Apheidas  the  son  of  Polypemon,  the  prince,  and  my 
own  name  is  Eperitus.  But  some  god  drave  me  wandering 
hither  from  Sicania  against  my  will,  and  yonder  my  ship  is 


39^  onvssEV  XXIV,  308-338. 

moored  toward  the  upland  away  from  the  city.  But  for 
Odysseus,  this  is  now  the  fifth  year  since  he  went  thence  and 
departed  out  of  my  country.  Ill-fated  was  he,  and  yet  he  had 
birds  of  good  omen  when  he  fared  away,  birds  on  the  right ; 
wherefore  I  sped  him  gladly  on  his  road,  and  gladly  he 
departed,  and  the  heart  of  us  twain  hoped  yet  to  meet  in 
friendship  on  a  day  and  to  give  splendid  gifts/ 

So  he  spake,  and  on  the  old  man  fell  a  black  cloud  of 
sorrow.  With  both  his  hands  he  clutched  the  dust  and 
ashes  and  showered  them  on  his  gray  head,  with  ceaseless 
groaning.  Then  the  heart  of  Odysseus  was  moved,  and  up 
through  his  nostrils  throbbed  anon  the  keen  sting  of  sor- 
row at  the  sight  of  his  dear  father.  And  he  sprang  towards 
him  and  fell  on  his  neck  and  kissed  him,  saying : 

*  Behold,  I  here,  even  I,  my  father,  am  the  man  of  whom 
thou  askest ;  in  the  twentieth  year  am  I  come  to  mine  own 
country.  But  stay  thy  weeping  and  tearful  lamentation,  for 
I  will  tell  thee  all  clearly,  though  great  need  there^is  of  haste. 
I  have  slain  the  wooers  in  our  halls  and  avenged  their  bitter 
scorn  and  evil  deeds.' 

Then  Laertes  answered  him  and  spake,  saying :  *  If  thou 
art  indeed  Odysseus,  mine  own  child,  that  art  come  hither, 
show  me  now  a  manifest  token,  that  I  may  be  assured.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying : 
*  Look  first  on  this  scar  and  consider  it,  that  the  boar  dealt 
me  with  his  white  tusk  on  Parnassus,  whither  I  had  gone,  and 
thou  didst  send  me  forth,  thou  and  my  lady  mother,  to 
Autolycus  my  mother's  father,  to  get  the  gifts  which  when 
he  came  hither  he  promised  and  covenanted  to  give  me.  But 
come,  and  I  will  even  tell  thee  the  trees  through  all  the  ter- 
raced garden,  which  thou  gavest  me  once  for  mine  own,  and 
I  was  begging  of  thee  this  and  that,  being  but  a  litde  child,  and 
following  thee  through  the  garden.    Through  these  very  trees 


ODYSSEY  XXIV,  339-368.  399 

we  were  going,  and  thou  didst  tell  me  the  names  of  each  of 
them.  Pear-trees  thirteen  thou  gavest  me  and  ten  apple- 
trees  and  figs  two-score,  and,  as  we  went,  thou  didst  name 
the  fifty  rows  of  vines  thou  wouldest  give  me,  whereof  each 
one  ripened  at  divers  times,  with  all  manner  of  clusters  on 
their  boughs,  when  the  seasons  of  Zeus  wrought  mightily  on 
them  from  on  high.' 

So  he  spake,  and  straightway  his  knees  were  loosened,  and 
his  heart  melted  within  him,  as  he  knew  the  sure  tokens  that 
Odysseus  showed  him.  About  his  dear  son  he  cast  his 
arms,  and  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  caught  him  fainting 
to  his  breast.  Now  when  he  had  got  breath  and  his  spirit 
came  to  him  again,  once  more  he  answered  and  spake, 
saying : 

*  Father  Zeus,  verily  ye  gods  yet  bear  sway  on  high 
Olympus,  if  indeed  the  wooers  have  paid  for  their  infatuate 
pride  1  But  now  my  heart  is  terribly  afraid,  lest  straightway 
all  the  men  of  Ithaca  come  up  against  us  here,  and  haste  to 
send  messengers  everywhere  to  the  cities  of  the  Cephal- 
lenians.' 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  him  saying: 
*  Take  courage,  and  let  not  thy  heart  be  careful  about  these 
matters.  But  come,  let  us  go  to  the  house  that  lies  near  the 
garden,  for  thither  I  sent  forward  Telemachus  and  the  neat- 
herd and  the  swineherd  to  get  ready  the  meal  as  speedily  as 
may  be.* 

After  these  words  the  twain  set  out  to  the  goodly  halls. 
Now  when  they  had  come  to  the  fair-lying  house,  they  found 
Telemachus  and  the  neatherd  and  the  swineherd  carving 
much  flesh,  and  mixing  the  dark  wine.  Meanwhile  the 
Sicilian  handmaid  bathed  high-hearted  Laertes  in  his  house, 
and  anointed  him  with  olive-oil,  and  cast  a  fair  mantle  about 
him.     Then  Athene  drew  nigh,  and  made  greater  the  limbs 


400  ODYSSEY  XXIV,  368-396. 

of  the  shepherd  of  the  people,  taller  she  made  him  than 
before  and  mightier  to  behold.  Then  he  went  fonh  from 
the  bath,  and  his  dear  son  marvelled  at  him,  beholding  him 
like  to  the  deathless  gods  in  presence.  And  uttering  his 
voice  he  spake  to  him  winged  words : 

*  Father,  surely  one  of  the  gods  that  are  from  everlasting 
hath  made  thee  goodlier  and  greater  to  behold/ 

Then  wise  Laertes  answered  him,  saying :  *  Ah,  would  to 
father  Zeus  and  Athene  and  Apollo,  that  such  as  I  was 
when  I  took  Nericus,  the  stablished  castle  on  the  foreland  of 
the  continent,  being  then  the  prince  of  the  Cephallenians, 
would  that  in  such  might,  and  with  mail  about  my  shoulders, 
I  had  stood  to  aid  thee  yesterday  in  our  house,  and  to  beat 
back  the  wooers;  so  should  I  have  loosened  the  knees  of 
many  an  one  of  them  in  the  halls,  and  thou  shouldest  have 
been  gladdened  in  thine  inmost  heart!' 

So  they  spake  each  with  the  other.  But  when  the  others 
had  ceased  from  their  task  and  made  ready  the  feast,  they 
sat  down  all  orderly  on  chairs  and  on  high  seats.  Then 
they  began  to  put  forth  their  hands  on  the  meat,  and 
the  old  man  Dolius  drew  nigh,  and  the  old  man's  sons 
withal  came  tired  from  their  labour  in  the  fields,  for  their 
mother,  the  aged  Sicilian  woman,  had  gone  forth  and 
called  them,  she  that  saw  to  their  living  and  diligently 
cared  for  the  old  man,  now  that  old  age  had  laid  hold  on 
him.  So  soon  as  they  looked  on  Odysseus  and  took 
knowledge  of  him,  they  stood  still  in  the  halls  in  great 
amazement  But  Odysseus  addressed  them  in  gende  words, 
saying : 

'  Old  man,  sit  down  to  meat  and  do  ye  forget  your  mar- 
velling, for  long  have  we  been  eager  to  put  forth  our  hands 
on  the  food,  as  we  abode  in  the  hall  alway  expecting  your 
cominof.' 


ODYSSEY  XXIV,  397-425.  4c  1 

So  he  spake,  and  Dolius  ran  straight  toward  him 
stretching  forth  both  his  hands,  and  he  grasped  the  hand 
of  Odysseus  and  kissed  it  on  the  wrist,  and  uttering  his 
voice  spake  to  him  winged  words : 

*  Beloved,  forasmuch  as  thou  hast  come  back  to  us  who 
sore  desired  thee,  and  no  longer  thought  to  see  thee,  and 
the  gods  have  led  thee  home  again; — hail  to  thee  and 
welcome  manifold,  and  may  the  gods  give  thee  all 'good 
fortune !  Moreover  tell  me  this  truly,  that  I  may  be  assured, 
whether  wise  Penelope  yet  knows  well  that  thou  hast  come 
back  hither,  or  whether  we  shall  dispatch  a  messenger/ 

Then  Odysseus  of  many  counsels  answered  saying  :  '  Old 
man,  already  she  knows  all;  what  need  to  busy  thyself 
herewith  ? ' 

Thereon  the  other  sat  him  down  again  on  his  polished 
settle.  And  in  like  wise  the  sons  of  Dolius  gathered  about 
the  renowned  Odysseus,  and  greeted  him  well  and  clasped  his 
hands,  and  then  sat  down  all  orderly  by  Dolius  their  father. 

So  they  were  busy  with  the  meal  in  the  halls.  Now 
Rumour  the  messenger  went  swiftly  all  about  the  city, 
telling  the  tale  of  the  dire  death  and  fate  of  the  wooers. 
And  the  people  heard  it  all  at  once,  and  thronged  toge- 
ther from  every  side  with  sighing  and  groaning,  before  the 
house  of  Odysseus.  And  each  brought  forth  his  dead  from 
the  halls,  and  buried  them;  but  those  that  came  out  of 
other  cities  they  placed  on  swift  ships,  and  sent  to  fisher- 
folk  to  carry,  each  corpse  to  his  own  home.  As  for 
them  they  all  fared  together  to  the  assembly-place,  in 
sorrow  of  heart.  When  they  were  all  gathered  and  come 
together,  Eupeithes  arose  and  spake  among  them,  for 
a  comfordess  grief  lay  heavy  on  his  heart  for  his  son 
Antinous,  the  first  man  that  goodly  Odysseus  had  slain. 
Weeping  for  him  he  made  harangue  and  spake  among  them: 

Dd 


402  OBVSSEV  XXIV,  426-453. 

'  Friends,  a  great  deed  truly  hath  this  man  devised  against 
the  Achaeans.  Some  with  his  ships  he  led  away,  many 
men  and  noble,  and  his  hollow  ships  hath  he  lost,  and 
utterly  lost  of  his  company,  and  others  again,  and  those 
far  the  best  of  the  Cephallenians  he  hath  slain  on  his 
coming  home.  Up  now,  before  ever  he  gets  him  swiftly 
either  to  Pylos  or  to  fair  Elis,  where  the  Epeians  bear  sway, 
let  U9  go  forth ;  else  even  hereafter  shall  we  have  shame  of 
face  for  ever.  For  a  scorn  this  is  even  for  the  ears  of  men 
unborn  to  hear,  if  we  avenge  not  ourselves  on  the  slayers 
of  our  sons  and  of  our  brethren.  Life  would  no  more 
be  sweet  to  me,  but  rather  would  I  die  straightway  and  be 
with  the  departed.  Up,  let  us  be  going,  lest  these  fellows 
be  beforehand  with  us  and  get  them  over  the  sea.' 

Thus  he  spake  wieeping,  and  pity  fell  on  all  the  Achaeans. 
Then  came  near  to  them  Medon  and  the  divine  minstrel, 
forth  from  the  halls  of  Odysseus,  for  that  sleep  had  let 
them  go.  They  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  gathering,  and 
amazement  seized  every  man.  Then  Medon,  wise  of  heart, 
spake  among  them,  saying: 

*  Hearken  to  me  now,  ye  men  of  Ithaca,  for  surely 
Odysseus  planned  not  these  deeds  without  the  will  of  the 
gods.  Nay  I  myself  beheld  a  god  immortal,  who  stood 
hard  by  Odysseus,  in  the  perfect  semblance  of  Mentor; 
now  as  a  deathless  god  was  he  manifest  in  front  of 
Odysseus,  cheering  him,  and  yet  again  scaring  the  wooers 
he  stormed  through  the  hall,  and  they  fell  thick  one  on 
another.' 

Thus  he  spake,  and  pale  fear  gat  hold  of  the  limbs  of  all. 
Then  the  old  man,  the  lord  Halitherses,  spake  among  them, 
the  •  son  of  Mastor,  for  he  alone  saw  before  and  after. 
Out  of  his  good  will  he  made  harangue  and  spake  among 
them,  saying : 


ODYSSEY  XXIV,  454-48^.  403 

'  Hearken  to  me  now,  ye  men  of  Ithaca,  to  the  word  that 
I  will  say.  Through  your  own  cowardice,  my  friends,  have 
these  deeds  come  to  pass.  For  ye  obeyed  not  me,  nor 
IMentor,  the  shepherd  of  the  people,  to  make  your  sons 
cease  from  their  foolish  ways.  A  great  villainy  they  wrought 
in  their  evil  infatuation,  wasting  the  wealth  and  holding  in 
no  regard  the  wife  of  a  prince,  while  they  deemed  that 
he  would  never  more  come  home.  And  now  let  things 
be  on  this  wise,  and  obey  my  counsel.  Let  us  not  go  forth 
against  him,  lest  haply  some  may  find  a  bane  of  their  own 
bringing.' 

So  he  spake,  but  they  leapt  up  with  a  great  cry,  the  more 
part  of  them,  while  the  rest  abode  there  together;  for  his 
counsel  was  not  to  the  mind  of  the  more  part,  but  they  gave 
ear  to  Eupeithes,  and  swiftly  thereafter  they  rushed  for  their 
armour.  So  when  they  had  arrayed  them  in  shining  mail, 
they  assembled  together  in  front  of  the  spacious  town. 
And  Eupeithes  led  them  in  his  widessness,  for  he  thought 
to  avenge  the  slaying  of  his  son,  yet  himself  was  never  to 
return,  but  then  and  there  to  meet  his  doom. 

Now  Athene  spake  to  Zeus,  the  son  of  Cronos,  saying : 
*0  Father,  our  father  Cronides,  throned  in  the  highest, 
answer  and  tell  me  what  is  now  the  hidden  counsel  of  thy 
heart  ?  Wilt  thou  yet  further  rouse  up  evil  war  and  the 
terrible  din  of  battle,  or  art  thou  minded  to  set  them  at  one 
again  in  friendship  ?  * 

Then  Zeus,  the  gatherer  of  the  clouds,  answered  her 
saying :  *  My  child,  why  dost  thou  thus  straitly  question  me, 
and  ask  me  this  ?  Nay  didst  not  thou  thyself  devise  this 
very  thought,  namely,  that  Odysseus  should  indeed  take 
vengeance  on  these  men  at  his  coming  ?  Do  as  thou  wilt, 
but  I  will  tell  thee  of  the  better  way.  Now  that  goodly 
Odysseus  hath  wreaked  vengeance  on  the  wooers,  let  them 
D  d  3 


404  ODYSSEY  XXIV,  483-509. 

make  a  firm  covenant  together  with  sacrifice,  and  let  him  be 
king  all  his  days,  and  let  us  bring  about  oblivion  Of  the 
slaying  of  their  children  and  their  brethren;  so  may  both 
sides  love  one  another  as  of  old,  and  let  peace  and  wealth 
abundant  be  their  portion.' 

Therewith  he  roused  Athene  to  yet  greater  eagerness, 
and  from  the  peaks  of  Olympus  she  came  glancing  down. 

Now  when  they  had  put  from  them  the  desire  of  honey- 
sweet  food,  the  steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  began  to  spc-ik 
among  them,  saying : 

'  Let  one  go  forth  and  see,  lest  the  people  be  already 
drawing  near  against  us.' 

So  he  spake,  and  the  son  of  Dolius  went  forth  at  his 
bidding,  and  stood  on  the  outer  threshold  and  saw  them 
all  close  at  hand.  Then  straightway  he  spake  to  Odysseus 
winged  words : 

'  Here  they  be,  close  upon  us !  Quick,  let  us  to  arms  t' 
Thereon  they  rose  up  and  arrayed  them  in  their  harness, 
Odysseus  and  his  men  being  four,  and  the  six  sons  of 
Dolius,  and  likewise  Laertes  and  Dolius  did  on  their  ar- 
mour, grey-headed  as  they  were,  warriors  through  stress  of 
need.  Now  when  they  had  clad  them  in  shining  mail, 
they  opened  the  gates  and  went  forth  and  Odysseus  led 
them. 

Then  Athene,  daughter  of  Zeus,  drew  near  them  in  the 
likeness  of  Mentor,  in  fashion  and  in  voice.  And  the  stead- 
fast goodly  Odysseus  beheld  her  and  was  glad,  and  straight- 
way he  spake  to  Telemachus  his  dear  son : 

'  Telemachus,  soon  shalt  thou  learn  this,  when  thou  thyself 
art  got  to  the  place  of  the  batde  where  the  best  men  try  the 
issue, — namely,  not  to  bring  shame  on  thy  father's  house, 
on  us  who  in  time  past  have  been  eminent  for  might  and 
hardihood  over  all  the  world.* 


ODVSSJSV  XXIV,  510-539.  405 

Then  wise  Telemachus  answered  him,  saying :  *  Thou 
shalt  see  me,  if  thou  wilt,  dear  father,  in  this  my  mood  no 
whit  disgracing  thy  line,  according  to  thy  word/ 

So  spake  he,  and  Laertes  was  glad  and  spake,  saying : 
*What  a  day  has  dawned  for  me,  kind  gods;  yea,  a  glad 
man  am  I !  My  son  and  my  son's  son  are  vying  with  one 
another  in  valour/ 

Then  grey-eyed  Athene  stood  beside  Laertes,  and  spake 
to  him :  *  O  son  of  Arceisius  that  art  far  the  dearest  of  all 
my  friends,  pray  first  to  the  grey-eyed  maid  and  to  father 
Zeus,  then  swing  thy  long  spear  aloft  and  hurl  it  straight- 
way/ 

Therewith  Pallas  Athene  breathed  into  him  great  strength. 
Then  he  prayed  to  the  daughter  of  mighty  Zeus,  and  straight- 
way swung  his  long  spear  aloft  and  hurled  it,  and  smote 
Eupeithes  through  his  casque  with  the  cheek-piece  of  bronze. 
The  armour  kept  not  out  the  spear  that  went  clean  through, 
and  he  fell  with  a  crash,  and  his  arms  rattled  about  his 
body.  Then  Odysseus  and  his  renowned  son  fell  on  the 
fore- fighters,  and  smote  them  with  swords  and  two-headed 
spears.  And  now  would  they  have  slain  them  all  and  cut 
off  their  return,  had  not  Athene  called  aloud,  the  daughter 
of  Zeus  lord  of  the  aegis,  and  stayed  all  the  host  of  the 
enemy,  saying : 

'  Hold  your  hands  from  fierce  fighting,  ye  men  of  Ithaca, 
that  so  ye  may  be  parted  quickly,  without  bloodshed/ 

So  spake  Athene,  and  pale  fear  gat  hold  of  them  all. 
The  arms  flew  from  their  hands  in  their  terror  and  fell  all 
upon  the  ground,  as  the  goddess  uttered  her  voice.  To  the 
city  they  turned  their  steps,  as  men  fain  of  life,  and  the 
steadfast  goodly  Odysseus  with  a  terrible  cry  gathered  himself 
together  and  hurled  in  on  them,  like  an  eagle  of  lofty  flight. 
Then  in  that  hour  the  son  of  Cronos  cast  forth  a  flaming 


4o5  ODYSSEY  XXIV,  540-558. 

bolt,  and  it  fell  at  the  feet  of  the  grey-eyed  goddess,  the 
daughter  of  the  mighty  Sire.  Then  grey-eyed  Athene  spake 
to  Odysseus,  saying : 

'  Son  of  Laertes,  of  the  seed  of  Zeus,  Odysseus  of  many 
devices,  refrain  thee  now  and  stay  the  strife  of  even-handed 
war,  lest  perchance  the  son  of  Cronos  be  angry  with  thee, 
even  Zeus  of  the  far-borne  voice/ 

So  spake  Athene,  and  he  obeyed  and  was  glad  at  heart. 
And  thereafter  Pallas  Athene  set  a  covenant  between  them 
with  sacrifice,  she,  the  daughter  of  Zeus  lord  of  the  aegis, 
in  the  likeness  of  Mentor,  both  in  fashion  and  in  voice. 


NOTES. 

Note  ',  Page  i  ;  Book  L  a. 

Upos. 

It  is  difficult  to  determine  whether  tep6s  in  Homer  does  not  sometimes 
retain  its  primitive  meaning  of  strong  (see  Curtius,  Etym.  No.  614):  in 
certain  phrases  this  may  perhaps  be  accepted,  as  an  archaism.  It  is  not 
obvious  how  else  to  explain,  e.  g.  II,  xvii.  464  t'e^  8t^/)a>,  II.  x.  56 
<pv\aK<uv  Upbv  riXos,  Od.  xxiv.  8r  ieph  arpards.  Combinations  however 
such  as  Upov  irroKUOpov  in  the  text,  and  Upbv  ^piap  Od.  x.  56,  easily  admit 
the  ordinary  sense.  So  too  in  Upbv  pievos,  Up^  U,  phrases  which  are 
applied  to  princes,  one  may,  as  in  the  epithet  deios,  trace  the  idea  of 
sacredness  which  attached  to  the  kingly  office.  On  the  whole  we  have 
not  felt  so  sure  of  the  archaic  usage  as  to  adopt  it  in  our  translation. 

Note  ^,  Page  i  ;  Book  i.  14, 

8ta  Ocdcov. 

The  original  meaning  of  Stos  was  bright  (see  Curtius,  Etym.  No.  269), 
and  survivals  of  this  are  found  in  the  phrases  ryw  Siav,  aWepa  Slav.  The 
word  is  commonly  taken  to  denote  noble  birth,  but  this  interpretation 
often  fails,  e.  g.  when  the  term  is  used  as  an  epithet  of  Philoetius  the 
neatherd  (Od.  xxi.  240),  and  as  an  epithet  of  places.  The  great  majority 
of  instances  where  it  is  used,  whether  of  persons  or  places,  seem  best 
satisfied  by  understanding  it  of  the  external  quality,  beauty.  It  has  very 
rarely,  perhaps  never,  a  moral  reference ;  sometimes  the  context  directly 
excludes  any  such  meaning.  The  difficulty  of  translating  Stos  lies  in  this, 
that  it  was  probably  more  vague  and  fluctuating  than  any  corresponding 
adjective  in  English.  Special  kinds  of  excellence  were  less  sharply 
separated  off  from  one  another  in  the  early  period  of  the  Greek  language 
than  they  were  later.  The  uses  of  dfx.vfxajv  illustrate  this.  Similarly 
Froissart  and  Brantome  apply  respectful  terms  of  moral  excellence  to 
knights  and  ladies  whom  they  describe  as  anything  but  moral. 


4o8  NOTES, 


Note  ',  Page  3 ;  Book  i.  64, 
IpKOS  o86vTQ)v,  or  teeth-hedge. 

This  phrase,  which  regards  the  teeth  as  the  hedge  or  fence  whicTi 
protects  the  mouth,  is  a  precise  parallel  to  the  Icelandic  tam-garHr,  i.  e. 
teeth-garth  (Old  English  garth,  enclosure).  The  difference,  however, 
between  the  two  expressions  is  that  the  Icelandic  is  the  common  prose 
phrase  in  use  up  to  this  day,  while  the  Greek  is  archaic  and  j^oetical. 
The  Icelandic  phrase  is  of  too  old  a  date  in  the  language  to  be  directly 
borrowed  from  the  Greek ;  it  is  the  genuine  metaphor  of  a  military  age, 
in  which  the  teeth  were  looked  upon  as  the  wall  guarding  the  castle, 
that  is,  the  mouth.  A  long  list  might  be  drawn  up  of  metaphorical 
expressions  common  to  Homer  and  the  Icelandic  sagas,  but  independent 
in  origin,  and  pointing  to  similar  customs  and  conditions  of  life. 

For  this  note  we  are  indebted  to  Mr,  E.  Magnusson,  translator  of 
*  Legends  of  Iceland,'  etc 

Note  *,  Page  6  j  Book  1. 100. 
Revenge  and  Atonement. 

Vifrroivov  IZioOai,  to  *  devour  without  atonement.*  The  iroiv-q  is  the 
price  paid  for  any  offence,  from  mere  rudeness,  like  that  of  Euryalus  (Od. 
viii.  158),  to  manslaughter.  It  is  true  that  Euryalus  (Od.  viii.  400)  is 
bidden  to  make  amends  to  Odysseus  for  his  insolence,  *  with  words  and 
2l  gift'  {S&p<if,  not  voivrj).  Comparing  Northern  with  Greek  manners, 
we  find  that  a  braggart  who  has  ruffled  Grettir's  temper  is  bidden,  just 
like  Euryalus,  to  make  atonement  with  a  gift ;  but  this,  unlike  Euryalus, 
he  refuses  to  do,  with  fatal  consequences.  So  too,  when  Ganelon  has 
been  insulted  in  the  camp  of  Marsile,  king  of  the  infidels,  he  receives 
a  sort  of  '  atonement '  in  the  form  of  a  present  of  furs. — Chanson  de 
Roland. 

To  return  to  the  *  livelihood  unatoned  for,'  we  see  what  due  atone- 
ment would  have  been,  if  Odysseus  had  chosen  the  price  rather  than 
vengeance,  in  the  speech  of  Eurymachus  (Od.  xxii.  55),  •  we  will 
each  pay  thee  to  the  amount  of  the  worth  of  twenty  oxen,  and  give  thee 
bronze  and  gold,  till  thy  heart  be  comforted.'  In  the  event  of  a  man* 
slaying,  the  kind; c J  took  up  the  blood-feud,  or,  if  they  preferred  it» 
accepted  the  iroivrj,  thus  Iliad  ix.  633:— 


NOTES,  4C9 


Kal  fjiiv  Tis  T€  Kaai-^vqroio  (povrjos 
voivfjv  7j  ov  Traidjs  ede^aro  Te6vr](VT0S' 
Kal  p  6  fitv  (V  Srjfico  fiivei  avTOv,  ttoW  airorlffas, 

*  many  a  man  has  taken  a  fine  for  the  slaying  of  his  brother  or  his  son 
and  the  manslayer  abides  at  home,  when  he  has  paid  a  great  price.* 
As  a  rule,  however,  blood  called  for  blood,  and  the  manslayer  had  to 
flee  from  the  kindred  who  took  up  the  feud.  Thus,  to  take  an  Ice- 
landic example,  even  Gunnar  of  Lithend  could  not  afford  to  '  slay  twice 
in  the  same  stock,'  twice  to  incur  the  anger  of  the  same  kindred.  Thus 
Gunnar,  on  the  second  slaying  in  the  same  stock,  had  both  to  pay  a 
price,  and  flee  abroad  for  three  years,  and,  if  he  did  not  flee,  '  then  he 
was  to  be  slain  by  the  kinsmen  of  those  he  had  killed.'  Some  shadow 
of  discredit  fell,  it  appears,  on  men  who  took  a  price  instead  of  pursuing 
the  feud,  except  in  rare  cases,  as  when  the  slain  man  was  violently  and 
perversely  in  the  wrong.  As  to  the  duty  of  vengeance  compare  Njal 
(who  will  not  leave  his  burning  house  when  his  sons  are  slain)  with 
Eupeithes.  5Jjal  said,  *I  will  not  go  out,  for  I  am  an  old  man  and 
little  fitted  to  avenge  my  sons,  but  in  shame  I  will  not  live.*  Old  Eup- 
eithes said,  •  This  would  be  a  shame  for  men  to  hear,  if  we  avenged  not 
our  sons ;  for  me  I  would  not  choose  to  live.*  Heroic  customs  did  not 
justify  slaying  a  man  to  avenge  an  injury  less  than  manslaughter,  inflicted 
on  a  kinsman.  Thus  Poseidon  '  does  not  indeed  slay  Odysseus,  for 
blinding  the  Cyclops,  his  son,  but  drives  him  wandering.'  No  Greek 
poet  of  the  heroic  age  could  have  ended  the  Odyssey  without  recon- 
ciling Odys:ieus  and  the  kin  of  the  wooers.  It  required  the  gods* 
interference  to  abate  the  feud  in  this  notable  case.  This  is  worth 
remembering  when  the  authority  of  Book  xxiv.  is  in  question.  Critics 
thought  it  superfluous  when  they  had  lost  the  old  sentiment  of  revenge. 
It  is  superfluous  to  remark  that  the '  price,*  as  an  alternative  to  vengeance, 
is  a  wide-spread  custom,     noivrj  is  the  7du  of  the  Maoris. 

Many  traces  of  these  customs  are  found  in  Attic  criminal  law,  which 
retained  down  to  a  late  period  much  of  its  primitive  character.  The 
speech  of  Demosthenes  against  Aristocrates  (§§  23-85)  is  especially 
noteworthy  for  the  information  it  supplies  about  the  (povucol  v6(xoi,  or 
laws  of  homicide.  We  meet  the  phrase  vr}itoivd  r^Ovavai  in  a  law  there 
cited  (§  60)  :  we  find  that  the  duty  of  taking  up  the  feud  still  devolves 
upon  the  next  of  kin,  01  irpoarjKovT€s  (within  the  degree  of  second  cousin- 
ship,  Dem,  ?p.  1161),  though  the  right  of  private  vengeance  is  abolished, 
and  two  tribunals,  the  Areopagus  and  the  Ephetae,  inflict  the  penalty. 


41  o  NOTES. 


In  cases  of  involuntary  or  unpremeditated  homicide,  <p6vos  oKovaio's.  the 
manslayer  goes  into  exile  until  he  has  appeased  the  kindred  of  the  dead, 
or  until  the  stated  term  of  such  exile  (a  year,  as  we  learn  from  other 
sources,)  has  elapsed.  The  act  of  reconciliation  is  denoted  by  aihtlaOaif 
Aristoc.  §  77,  op.  §  72,  Nausim.  §  22,  Macart.  §  57  (similarly  aiUffLS, 
Midias,  §  43).  It  may  be  added  that  in  Attic  law  the  price  of  blood 
is  ra  viio(p6via. 

Note  ',  Page  10 ;  Book  i.  277-8. 

The  €68va  or  bride-price. 

The  Uiva  in  Homer  are  invariably  gifts  made  by  the  wooers  to  the 
father  or  kinsmen  of  the  bride,  that  is,  the  bride-price,  the  kalym  of  the 
dwellers  on  the  Volga.  The  Greeks  of  the  Homeric  age  virtually  bought 
their  wives;  cp.  Aristotle,  Pol,  ii.  8,  §  19,  speaking  of  the  barbaric  customs 
of  ancient  Greece,  ras  yvvcuKas  kcavovvro  vap*  dWr'jXwv.  The  father  of  the 
bride  was  thus  said  keduovaOax  dvyarpa  (Od.  ii.  53),  to  accept  certain  hSva 
as  the  price  for  his  daughter, — what  is  called  *  coming  to  terms  about 
the  marriage '  in  Iliad  xiii.  381  (^ocppa  .  .  .  aww/xeOa  .  .  .  dfifl  ydfiq)). 
As  a  rule  the  woman  would  go  to  the  highest  bidder,  but  in  the  case  of 
a  favoured  wooer  it  seems  to  have  been  not  unusual  either  to  remit  the 
price  and  give  the  bride  dvdidyov  (cp.  Agamemnon's  offer  to  Achilles,  II. 
ix.  141),  or  to  return  a  portion  of  the  U5ya  after  marriage  (Od.  i.  278, 
ii.  196),  as  is  still  the  custom  in  similar  circumstances  among  the 
Kanekas  in  New  Caledonia. 

In  Pindar  eSj/a  is  already  used  in  its  later  sense  of  (pepvrj  or  dowry 
(Pind.  Pyth.  iii.  94 ;  01.  ix.  10). 

In  Homer  6(dpa,  gifts  from  the  wooers  to  the  father  of  the  bride,  are 
distinguished  on  the  one  hand  from  Saipa,  gifts  from  the  wooers  to  the 
bride,  and  on  the  other  from  fieiXia,  gifts  from  the  lather  of  the  bride  to 
his  daughter. 

Note  •,  Page  1 2  ;  Book  i.  349. 

d\<|>T)o-'rf|S. 

The  etymology  and  meaning  of  this  word  are  not  yet  placed  beyond 
doubt.     Two  derivations  are  offered. 

I.  From  root  arbh-  which  appears  in  Gr.  dXcp-dvtiv,  Lat.  lah-or,  Germ, 
Arh-t\i.  This  derivation  gives  rise  to  two  explanations  of  the  word, 
which  are  not  generally  distinguished  ; — 


NOTES,  4T 


(a)  'Gain-getting,'  'enterprising;'  a  very  appropriate  sense  if  dAc/)^- 
aral  is  a  special  epithet  of  sea  faring  men  or  traders.  And  so  some 
commentators  take  it  (e.  g.  Nitzsch  on  Odyss.  i.  349,  Paley  on  Aesch. 
Theb.  770).  But  two  out  of  the  three  passages  where  it  occurs  in 
Homer  lead  rather  to  the  conclusion  that,  whatever  be  the  exact  meaning 
of  the  word,  it  is  an  epithet  descriptive  of  mankind  at  large,  not  of 
merchantmen  only.  Such  is  the  context  of  Od.  i.  349, '  it  is  not  minstrels 
who  are  in  fault,  but  Zeus,  methinks,  is  in  fault : ' — 

OS  re  ti^ojaiv 
avSpdcriv  d\(l>T]ffTrj(Tiv,  onojs  k94\riaiy,  kKd(TT<p, 
Again,  Od.  xiii.  261,  '  Orsilochus  who  in  wide  Crete' 

dvipas  dXtpTjards  v'lKa  laxtcffi  Ttodtaaiv. 
The  context  of  the  third  passage,  Od.  vi.  8,  hardly  helps  us  to  determine 
whether  the  word  has  the  wider  or  the  narrower  application :  '  Nausi- 
thous  planted  them  (the  Pheeacians)  in  Scheria ' 
kKas  dvhpwv  dXcprjcxTaaJV. 
Assuming,  then,  that  it  is  a  generic  epithet  of  mankind,  we  seem  to 
require  some  more  obvious  and  primitive  description  than  •  gain-getting,* 
•enterprising.' 

(6)  The  second  explanation  supplies  us  with  such  a  description. 
Those  who  adopt  it  find  in  the  root  dK(p-  the  notion  of  winning  by  effort : 
thus  d\(pT)aTal  would  mean  '  toilsome,'  '  living  by  the  sweat  of  their 
brow.'  This  interpretation  is  open  to  a  different  objection  from  the 
last.  The  sense  thus  given  is  excellent,  but  it  is  very  questionable 
whether  the  proposed  etymology  will  yield  it.  The  root  d\(p-  in  Greek 
shows  no  trace  of  the  idea  of  activity  or  labour,  which  appears  in  the 
cognate  words  in  other  languages.  In  Greek,  akfavu  means  *  to  bring 
in,  to  fetch,  a  price,'  and  other  derivatives  of  the  root  d\<p-  must  be 
interpreted  mainly  by  the  usage  of  this  verb,  and  not  by  the  primary 
meaning  of  the  root  as  it  is  revealed  by  comparative  philology,  a  mean- 
ing which,  while  it  is  found  elsewhere,  is  purely  hypothetical  in  Greek. 

3.  The  other  derivation,  to  which  on  the  whole  we  incline,  is  from 
d\(j>i  (Hom.  Hym.  Cer.  208),  in  the  sense  of  dK<pirov,  and  eSw,  'barley- 
meal  eating,'  Thus  we  should  have  a  vivid  Homeric  epithet,  which 
seizes  on  a  striking  and  differentiating  mark  of  men.  Its  proper  place 
would  be  alongside  of  dvhpi  ye  aiTocpdyo)  (Od.  ix.  191),  of  the  descrip- 
tion of  men  as  knl  xOovi  airov  ISoj/tcs  (Od.  viii.  222,  ix.  89,  x.  101), 
and  as  dpovprjs  Kapitbv  edovret  (II.  xxi.  465).    Civilized  men  as  dXcprjOToX 


412  NOTES, 


are  thus  distinguished  from  beasts  and  from  savages,  who  are  wfitjaTcd, 
'  raw-flesh  eating.' 

The  use  of  dvepas  instead  of  avOpdjirovs  or  0poTovs  in  combination  with 
d\(pT](TTas  need  not  create  a  difficulty.  Compare  aKcpira  ixvtKov  dvdpwv 
(Od.  ii.  290),  where  dvSpjJv  is  coextensive  with  di'Opwnojv. 

The  word  soon  fell  out  of  Greek.  It  occurs  once  in  the  Homeric 
Hymn  to  Apollo,  458,  where  the  context  leaves  it  as  doubtful  as  in  Od. 
vi.  8 ;  three  times  in  Hesiod,  apparently  as  a  general  epithet  of  man- 
kind, but  not  so  as  to  give  any  clue  as  to  its  meaning.  It  is  found 
twice  in  tragedy,  in  Aesch.  Theb.  770,  and  Soph,  Philoct.  709.  and  in 
each  case  it  would  seem  to  be  an  archaism  adopted  from  Epic  language. 
iEschylus  probably  understood  it, — and,  if  we  are  right,  misunderstood 
it, — as  'gainful,'  'trading,'  whereas  'barley-meal  eating'  is  better  suited 
to  the  passage  in  Sophocles. 

In  a  fragment  of  Epicharmus  (Frag.  10,  ed.  Lorenz),  quoted  by 
Athenaeus,  vii.  81,  are  the  following  lines : — 

fivfs  [It*]  dXcpijarai  re  KopaKivoi  r*  KopioeiSies 
aioKiai  ir\6jT€s  re  KvvoyXojaaoi  rt. 
Here  fxves  dKfrjcxTai  is  not  (as  one  scholar  has  supposed  from  a  re- 
ference to  the  first  line,  which  is  quoted  by  itself  in  Athenaeus,  vii.  15) 
'barley-eating  mice,'  but  fives,  dXiprjarai,  and  KopaKivoi  are  three  kinds 
offish,  pLvis  being  'muscle-fish.'  Probably  dKcpTjarai,  as  the  name  of 
a  fish,  was  so  called  from  the  bait  of  meal  with  which  the  fish  was 
caught.  This  use  of  dXcprjaral  as  a  substantive  confirms  to  some  extent 
the  derivation  of  the  adjective  dKcprjaTal  which  is  given  above  under  2  : 
otherwise  we  must  suppose  dKcprjcTal  the  substantive  to  be  quite  dif- 
ferent in  etymology  from  the  Homeric  adjective  d\<(>r}<rTai. 

It  may  be  worth  mentioning  that  the  traditional  interpretation  of 
d\<pr)aTai,  now  however  discarded,  is  *  inventive.'  Eustathius,  the 
scholiasts  on  the  Odyssey,  and  the  grammarians  agree  in  paraphrasing 
it  by  ivpiTiKoi,  ecpfvperiKoi,  kmvorjTiKoi,  adding  that  evpiaKnv  is  synony- 
mous with  dX<piiv  (see,  for  instance,  Schol.  B  and  E  on  Od.  i.  340,  and 
Etym.  Magn).  This  at  first  sight  is  unintelligible,  for  beyond  all  doubt 
dXtpexv  never  meant  to  '  invent.'  But  there  was  one  idiomatic  use  of 
dX<pdviiv  in  which  it  was  equivalent  to  evpiaKciv.  ri  dX^dvn  ;  '  what  does 
it  fetch  ? '  at  a  public  auction,  was  the  older  expression  for  the  later  Attic 
Tt  (vpiffKei;  see  Bekk.  Anecd.  p.  382,  8,  Lexic.  Seq.  and  the  quotations 
there  from  Aristophanes  and  Eupolis.  Similarly  rifi^v  dkfpuv,  'to  fetch 
a  price  '  (cf.  rifiaA^^s),  is  the  same  as  rifi^v  evpuv.     Is  it  possible  that 


NOTES.  413 


the  equivalency  of  €vp€Tv  and  aXcpexv  in  these  technical  expressions  mis- 
led the  grammarians  into  explaining  d\(pr}aTal  by  evperiKoi  ? 

For  an  interesting  discussion  of  this  word  see  an  article  by  Mr,  F.  F. 
Fletcher  in  Hermathena,  No.  i,  1873,  where  the  view  which  is  main- 
tained above,  and  which  seems  to  have  originated  with  K.  F.  Hermann, 
is  enforced  at  length.  We  have  adopted  some  of  the  arguments  put 
forward  in  that  article. 

Note  ^,  Page  24 ;  Book  ii.  244-5. 

There  are  here  two  main  lines  of  interpretation,  (i)  talcing  av^paai 
lt\(6vf(T<Ti  to  be  governed  by  fJiaxrjfTaaOai,  as  in  the  text.  In  this  case  it  is 
best  to  regard  the  tone  of  Leocritus  as  defiant.  He  answers  the  taunt  of 
Mentor,  who  in  241  had  called  the  wooers  iravpovs,  by  retorting  it.  So 
far  from  being  iravpoi,  he  would  say,  we  are  Kal  TrXeoj/es,  we  actually  out- 
number you.    The  subject  to  fiaxnffaaOai  will  be  Mentor  and  his  party. 

(2)  Taking  irXfovtaai  with  dpyakiov : — 'it  would  be  hard  for  you,  even 
if  you  were  more  in  number  than  you  are,  to  fight  with  us  about  a  feast.' 
According  to  this,  trXeoveaffi  is  suggested  by  iroWol  (ovrts  at  the  end  of 
Mentor's  speech  in  241.  The  sense  is  decidedly  improved  by  this  ren- 
dering: but  there  is  one  fatal  objection  against  it  as  our  text  stands.  If 
the  received  reading,  d  7r\(6v(cr(n  fiaxoiro,  in  251,  be  right,  it  seems 
decisive  in  favour  of  irXfoveaai  in  245  being  similarly  governed  by  the  verb, 
IWLXT)crao6ai.  This  difficulty  is  avoided  by  the  reading  of  the  Schol.  in 
251,64  irXiovh  ol  inoivro,  'even  if  Odysseus  had  the  larger  following.' 

We  have  not  ventured  to  introduce  this  into  the  text,  as  being  de- 
ficient in  authority,  though  it  certainly  adds  point  as  well  as  simplicity 
to  the  passage. 

Another  suggestion  of  the  Scholiast  is  to  retain  the  MSS.  reading  in 
251,  and  regard  iT\(6v€aai  in  each  case  as  equivalent  to  avv  trXiovfaai. 
•  fight  with  more  men  on  your  side,*  The  general  sense  would  then  be 
much  the  same  as  in  (2),  but  such  a  use  of  the  dative  may  be  pro- 
nounced impossible,  and  is  not  justified  by  the  Attic  phrases  arpaicv, 
or6\(^  /idxiodcu. 

Note',  Page  36;  Book  iii,  163. 

o|j,<{>ie\(,<ra-ai  =  recurvatce. 

Ships  thus  described  had  probably  a  curved  beak  at  either  extremity, 
raised  high  out  of  the  water.     In  the  reliefs  at  Medinet  Habou,  there  is 


414 


NOTES. 


a  picture  of  a  sea  fight  between  the  Egyptians  under  Ramses  III.  (1200- 
1166  B.C.)  and  those  maritime  peoples  of  the  Mediterranean,  among 
whom  it  has  been  usual  to  recognize  the  ancestors  of  the  Achgeana^ 
Etruscans,  and  Sicilians. 


The  ships  of  these  pre-homeric  sea-kings  might  be  called  dficpUXiffffai ; 
they  are  lofty  in  prow  and  stem,  and  either  extremity  is  finished  off  with 
a  curved  bird's  beak,  which  rises  high  out  of  the  water.  The  vessels  of 
the  Egyptians  are  low  at  prow  and  stern,  and  have  not  that  raised  and 
fenced  half-deck  on  which  the  warrior  stands  in  our  engraving.  This 
is  the  place  wheie  Odysseus  posted  himself  when  he  meant  to  offer 
battle  to  Scylla  of  the  rock.     (Od.  xii.  229,  230):— 

€ts  i/cpia  vijbs  i^aivov 
irpcppris. 

If  this  be  the  correct  explanation  of  dficpiiXiffffai,  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  the  term  would  no  longer  apply  to  Greek  vessels  of  the 
sixth  century,  as  represented  in  the  vases  of  that  period.  The  prow  was 
by  that  time  constructed  for  ramming  purposes,  for  which  the  high  birds* 
beaks  of  the  early  Mediterranean  vessels  were  not  at  all  adapted.  An 
example  of  the  Homeric  ship,  or  something  like  it,  is  painted  on  a  very 
old  vase  in  the  Cesnola  collection.  (Cesnola's  Cyprus,  pi.  xlv.)  Like 
the  vessels  in  the  Egyptian  reliefs,  this  galley  has  its  prow  and  stem 
recurvatae,  built  high  out  of  the  water  and  protected  by  lofty  bulwarks. 
On  the  whole  subject  consult  M.  Chabas,  Etudes  sur  VAntiquite  Hit' 
torique,  pp.  309-313  (Paris  1873),  from  which  our  sketch  is  borrowed. 
We  may  recognize  the  vessels  of  early  Mediterranean  sea-rovers  in  the 
Egyptian  reliefs,  without  committing  ourselves  to  the  ethnological 
theories  either  of  De  Rouge  or  Brugsch. 


NOTES,  415 


Note  ',  Page  38  ;  Book  iii.  244. 
Legal  advisers,  SiKas — Nestor's  Jinowledge  of, 

Nestor,  as  a  very  old  man,  and  one  who  has  been  reigning  in  three 
generations,  is  credited  with  great  knowledge  of  customary  law.  There 
is  as  yet,  just  as  in  Iceland,  no  class  of  men  who  have  a  monopoly  of 
this  knowledge,  like  the  Irish  Brehons,  but  probity,  kindliness,  and 
experience,  give  certain  persons  a  recognised  status  as  'expounders  of 
custom.  Thus  of  the  aged  Njal  it  is  said :  '  Of  good  counsel  he  was, 
and  ready  to  give  it,  and  all  that  he  advised  men  was  sure  to  be  the  best 
for  them  to  do.  Gentle  and  generous,  he  unravelled  every  man's  knotty 
points  who  came  to  see  him  about  them.'  For  the  same  reason,  Nestor 
is  the  best  adviser  of  Telemachus. 

This  sense  of  hUai,  'dooms,'  'judgments,'  may  be  paralleled  by  certain 
usages  of  iura  in  Latin. 

Note  '°,  Page  43 ;  Book  iii.  378. 

TpiTOY€V€ta. 

This  is  a  hieratic  epithet  of  which  the  exact  meaning  may  perhaps 
have  been  unknown  to  Homer  himself.  The  •  honour-giving  names '  of 
the  gods  are  probably  of  the  utmost  antiquity.  According  to  one 
theory  current  among  the  ancients  TpiToy4v€ia  means  '  bom  from  the 
head,'  (rpiTou,  caput,  in  Cretan).  This  explanation  connects  Athene  with 
the  very  old  legend  of  her  birth  from  the  head  of  Zeus.  '  Antiquitatem 
arguit  ipsa  figmenti  cruda,  indigesta  et  agrestis  indoles,'  says  Heyne 
{Apollodor  Bibl.  Obss.  p.  16).  The  Mdrchen  of  an  armed  and  beautiful 
maiden  who  sprang  to  the  light  from  the  body  of  a  king  is  still 
current  in  Zacynthus  {Griechische  Mdrchen,  von  Bernhardt  Schmidt, 
Leipzig,  1877).  The  Zacynthian  fairy  tale  may  be  a  lingering  version 
of  the  old  myth,  or  the  old  myth,  cruda  et  agrestis,  may  have  been 
borrowed  by  the  higher  mythology  from  a  Mdrchen  like  that  which 
survives  in  Zacynthus.  According  to  another  classical  hypothesis, 
Athene  was  called  Tpiroyeveia  because  she  was  bom  beside  the  stream 
Trito,  in  Boeotia,  or  in  Thessaly,  or  by  the  lake  Trito  in  Libya.  It  has 
been  pointed  out  that  Trito  is  the  Sanscrit  trita,  '  water,'  and  thus  Tpiro^ 
fivfia  may  originally  have  meant  '  bom  from  the  water.'  It  is  worth 
remarking  that  the  local  name  Trito,  in  Greece,  and  in  Libya  alike, 
must    originally  have    meant    no  more   than   'the  water,'  like    our 


41^  NOTES. 


Avon.  It  seems  not  improbable  that  the  white  races  of  Libya,  the 
Takennu,  may  have  been  akin  by  stock  and  language  to  the  early 
Greeks.  Thus,  when  the  post-Homeric  Greeks  made  the  acquaintance 
of  the  Libyans,  they  found  their  own  local  names  in  Africa. 

Note  ^*,  Page  50 ;  Book  iv,  66. 

Honourable  Messes  of  Meat. 

The  chief  men  in  the  Odyssey  are  honoured  with  a  particular  portion 
of  the  meat.  Compare  the  ancient  Irish  custom  of  the  Brewy's  caldron 
(Senchus  Mor,  i.49),  '  His  own  proper  kind  of  food  is  got  out  of  it  for 
each  person ;  as,  for  example,  the  haunch  for  the  king,  bishop,  and 
literary  doctor;  a  leg  for  the  young  chief;  the  head  for  the  charioteers, 
a  steak  for  the  queen,  a  "  croichet "  for  a  king  opposed  in  his  govern- 
ment, or  a  tanist  of  a  monarch,'  etc. 

Note  ",  Page  95  ;  Book  vi.  lOI. 

Ball-dance  and  Song. 

From  Mr.  Gill's  *  Songs  and  Myths  of  the  South  Pacific,*  it  appears 
that  a  shipwrecked  wanderer  might  even  now  have  the  fortune  of  Odys- 
seus, and  meet  maidens  playing  choral  games  of  ball,  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  very  pretty  songs  quoted  in  Mr.  Gill's  book. 

Note  ^,  Page  177 ;  Book  xi.  156. 
The  Living  among  the  Dead. 

T^KVov  c(Ji6v,  irws  TiXdes  viro  |[6<|>ov  T|€p6€VTa 

^coos  £(ov ; 
The  difficulty  which  Anticleia  finds  in  accounting  for  the  presence  of 
a  living  man  among  the  dead  is  precisely  that  of  the  Daughters  of 
Death,  in  the  Kalewala,  when  the  living  Wainamoinen  tries  to  enter 
Tuonela,  the  Finnish  Hades.  We  translate  their  speech  in  the  metre  ol 
the  original: — 

Then  the  daughters  of  Tuoni, 

Then  the  daughters  of  Manala, 

Took  the  word  and  spake  in  answer 

To  the  old  Wainamoinen, 

How  hast  thou  come  to  Manala? 


NOTES,  417 


How  cam'st  thou  to  Tuonela, 

Death  came  not  on  thee  through  sickness, 

Thou  wast  never  slain  by  sorrow, 


If  the  iron  sent  thee  hither. 
If  steel  sent  thee  to  Manala, 
Then  thy  raiment  would  be  bloody. 
What  has  sent  thee  to  Manala? 


Note  ",  Page  195  ;  Book  xii.  89. 
acopoi. 

We  have  in  the  text  followed  Curtius  (Etym.  No.  518)  in  supposing 
&ojpot  to  be  connected  with  aiipo},  St.  a^ip,  and  to  mean  •  dangling.' 
This  agrees  with  one  of  the  explanations  of  Schol.  B,  KpefmaToi.  Mr. 
D,  B.  Monro  of  Oriel  Coll,  has,  however,  pointed  out  to  us  the  philo- 
logical objection  to  the  combination  o(w,  where  we  should  expect  either 
€<w,  as  in  /xericopos,  or  t}0,  as  in  fxerrjopos,  or  rj(u,  as  in  dTrfjcvpos  (Od.  xii. 
435),  He  therefore  would  take  daipos  in  the  usual  sense,  'unripe,' 
*  unformed,'  and  see  a  contrast  between  the  dwarfed  feet  and  the  great 
growth  of  neck,  the  contrast  being  marked  hy  7^  toi  ....  5e  t€.  Com'- 
pare  line  86 : — 

rrjs  ^  Tot  (j>(uv^  fikv  oarj  aKvKoKos  veoyiXrjs 
7t7V«Ta»  avrij  5*  aSre  iiiXojp  kokov, 
where  there  is  a  similar  contrast  between  the  feeble  voice   and   the 
monstrous  form,     aiiros  is  often  the  body,   as  opposed  to  intangible 
things  like  the  voice  or  the  soul. 

This  would  give  a  very  satisfactory  sense  to  the  passage.  But  the 
philological  objection  above  mentioned  ought  not,  we  think,  to  be  counted 
decisive  against  the  other  explanation.  The  difficulty  of  connecting  the 
Homeric  form  doopos  with  deip-co,  fxiT-rjopo-s,  etc.  is  not  greater  than 
the  difficulty  of  connecting  the  Attic  form  alojpico  with  the  same  words ; 
yet  it  is  impossible  to  separate  aiup-ioj  from  detp-cw  and  fier-'qopo-s. 

Note",  Page  247;  Book  xv.  225, 

The  Saga  of  Melampus, 

Neleus,  Poseidon's  son,  had  a  daughter,  Pero,  the  fairest  of  women, 
and  to  none  would  he  give  her  but  to  the  man  that  would  lift  the  kine 

E  e 


41 8  NOTES, 


of  his  mother,  Tyro,  and  drive  them  out  of  Phylace,  where  Iphiclus  held 
them.  Now,  all  men  failing,  Bias  Talaus'  son  alone  offered  to"  do  as 
much,  and  persuaded  his  brother  Melampus  to  achieve  this  adventure, 
who,  though  he  knew  by  his  skill  in  prophecy  that  he  should  be 
kept  prisoner  for  a  year,  yet  went  to  Othrys  after  the  kine.  There  the 
watchmen  and  the  shepherds  took  him  in  the  theft,  and  gave  him  up  to 
Iphiclus.  There  was  he  bound  and  put  in  duresse,  with  two  servants 
to  watch  him,  a  man  and  a  woman,  the  man  gentle,  but  the  woman  un- 
gentle and  unkind.  Now  when  the  year  was  almost  run  out,  Melampus 
heard  certain  wood-worms  overhead  talking  among  themselves,  and 
telling  how  'the  roof-beam  was  now  well  nigh  eaten  through.'  Thereon 
he  called  them  that  waited  on  him,  and  bade  them  carry  him  out :  and 
they  took  up  his  bed  and  walked  forth,  the  woman  at  the  foot,  and  the 
man  at  the  head  going  out  foremost.  In  that  moment  the  beam  fell  on 
the  woman  and  killed  her ;  but  the  man  told  Phylacus,  and  Phylacus 
told  Iphiclus  what  had  come  to  pass,  who  thereupon,  as  knowing  Me- 
lampus to  be  a  soothsayer,  offered  to  set  him  free,  if  he  would  expound 
the  reason  wherefore  Iphiclus  was  childless.  And  this  was  confirmed  by 
oath.  So  Melampus  sacrificed  to  Zeus,  and  set  out  a  portion  for  all  the 
fowls  of  the  air.  And  they  all  came,  save  one  vulture  only,  and  he 
questioned  them  all,  and  none  knew  of  the  cause ;  and  so  they  inquired 
of  the  vulture,  who  expounded  the  matter,  which  was  strange,  but  here 
I  say  no  more  of  it.  So  thereafter  Iphiclus  begat  Podarce ;  but  Melam- 
pus, who  got  the  cattle  for  the  bride-price  of  Pero,  gave  her  to  his 
brother  Bias.    The  story  is  told  by  Pherecydes,  in  his  Seventh  Book. 

NoTE^*,  Page  328  ;  Book  xix.  578. 

The  Axes. 

It  is  not  easy  to  understand  the  exact  nature  of  the  feat  here  described. 
As  to  the  meaning  of  the  words  hpvoxovs  us,  the  explanation  of  A. 
Goebel  {Neue  Jahrhucher  fur  Philologie,  1876,  p.  171)  may  be  accepted 
as  correct.  So  Merry,  Od.  xix.  572  *The  axes  were  set  upright  in 
the  ground,  in  a  long  trench  dug  for  their  reception  ;  in  this  position 
they  resembled  a  row  of  dpvoxoi,  which  seem  to  be  the  trestles  or  blocks 
with  a  central  notch,  on  which  the  keel  of  a  ship  was  laid,  when 
her  building  first  began.'  There  is  a  greater  difficulty  as  to  the  form 
of  the  axes,  and  the  meaning  of  irpiiT'qs  aTuXurjs  (xxi.  422).  Goebel's 
translation  comes  to  this, — •  he  did  not  miss  the  handle-tip  of  all  the 


NOTES. 


419 


axes.*  Here  areiXfi-ff  is  taken,  and  we  believe  rightly,  to  mean  '  axe* 
handle,'  the  <mi\tibv  of  Od.  v.  236,  while  tt/wt^s  =  ' outermost,'  (as 
Iliad  XX.  275)  — 

Kot  PdXfv  Alveiae  Kar'  dairiSa  rrdvToa*  ktcijVf 

''AvTvy     viro    n puTijv. 
Goebel  explains  his  idea  by  a  drawing  of  the  double-headed  axe,  in 
which  the  two  blades  almost  meet  and  form  a  ring  at  the  top  of  the 


Fio.  I. 


Fia.  2. 


^^ 


ria.4. 


Fig.  3. 


handle  (fig.  i).  But  it  must  be  observed  (a)  that  irpwTijs,  in  juxta- 
position with  irdvTQjv,  would  naturally  mean  the  first  of  the  row,  (not 
•  the  outermost  tip  of  the  handle,')  and  in  this  sense  we  prefer  to  take  it. 

£62 


A20  NOTES. 

The  fjenitive  will  then  be  an  ablative  genitive,  not  unoonimon  in  Homer. 
(/3)  That  we  are  not  acquainted  with  any  examples  of  ancient  Greek  axes 
like  that  drawn  by  Goebel.  The  double-headed  axe  which  is  represented 
in  miniature  on  some  ornaments  from  the  Mycensean  graves  (Schlie- 
mann's  Mycenae  und  Tiryns,  pp.  218,  253,  362)  and  in  a  heraldic  design 
on  a  ring,  found  near  Mycense,  is  hammer-headed,  as  in  figure  2.  There 
would  be  no  difficulty  in  merely  shooting  over  the  tops  of  the  handles 
of  axes  like  these. 

Many  commentators  have  supposed  that  the  axe-heads  were  stuck  in 
the  ground  by  their  edges,  without  the  handles,  and  that  Odysseus  shot 
through  the  handle-hole.  But  even  if  axes,  in  Homers  time,  were 
attached  to  the  handle  by  the  method  familiar  to  us,  and  to  later 
Greece,  the  holes  could  not  have  been  raised  more  than  a  few  inches 
above  the  earth.  Thus  an  arrow  could  scarcely  have  been  sent  through 
them,  whether  by  a  standing  (xix.  575),  or  by  a  seated  archer  (xxi.  420). 
The  difficulty  is  to  find  an  ancient  axe  through  a  hole  in  the  metal  of  which 
it  was  possible  to  shoot.  Probably  if  we  could  see  the  weapon  with 
which  Homer  was  familiar  the  puzzle  would  instantly  disappear.  We 
engrave  (figures  3  and  4)  two  Egyptian  axes  (now  in  the  British  Museum) 
merely  to  sliow  that  axes  with  open-work  blades  were  not  unknown  in 
antiquity,  that  they  are  not,  as  Mr.  Merry  says,  'a  pure  invention.*  If  the 
grotesque  figure  were  removed  from  within  the  blade  of  figure  3,  it  would 
be  easy  to  shoot  through  the  opening,  and  the  same  would  be  the  case 
if  the  openings  in  figure  4  were  enlarged,  as  they  might  be  in  another 
example.  Despite  the  intercourse  between  Egypt  and  pre-histoiic 
Greece,  it  would  be  the  height  of  rashness  to  allege  that  the  Achceans 
were  familiar  with  axes  shaped  like  these.  Probably  the  axes  of 
Odysseus  were  like  that  which  we  engrave  (fig.  5).  This  weapon 
is  used  by  an  Amazon  in  a  conflict  with  Heracles  on  a  metope  of 
a  temple  in  Selinus.  The  probable  date  is  about  500  b.c.  It  is  easy 
to  see  how  the  feat  of  Odysseus  might  have  been  performed  with 
axes  of  this  pattern.  For  this  illustration  we  are  indebted  to 
Mr.  A  S.  Murray.     (Benndorf's  Metopen  von  Selimmt,  pi.  7.) 

If  we  would  combine  this  view  as  to  the  shape  of  the  axes  with  the 
explanation  of  Spvoxoi  given  above,  we  must  suppose  that  the  com- 
parison with  Spvoxoi  is  not  intended  to  be  carried  out  into  every  detail. 
The  general  point  of  resemblance  consists  in  the  arrangement  in  a  straight 
line,  at  regular  intervals  ;—icrTacr;^'  k^eirji  Spvoxovs  ws  (xix.  574)-  The 
word  l^€(jjs  here  strikes  the  kej-note  of  the  comparison.    Possibly,  too. 


NOTES.  421 


there  is  some  correspondence  suggested  between  the  openings  in  the  axe- 
blades  and  the  notches  in  the  hpvoxoi ;  but  it  would  be  rash  to  conclude 
that  the  shape  of  the  axe-blades  conforms  exactly  to  that  of  the  Zpvoxoi- 

Note  ^,  Page  341 ;  Book  xx.  354. 

The  Second-sighted  Man.     Omens  and  Portents. 

at|JiaTi  8'  eppdSarai  xoixoi  KaXaC  t€  (jico-oSai,  k.  t.  X. 

The  omens  seen  by  the  second-sighted  Theoclymenus,  a  man  who 
inherits  with  the  blood  of  Melampus  the  gift  of  soothsaying,  are  those 
which  everywhere  bode  death  and  doom.  The  shroud  of  mist  covering 
not  only  the  feet  and  knees,  the  sign  of  approaching  but  distant  death, 
but  reaching  to  the  head  so  as  to  foreshow  that  death  is  even  at  the 
doors,  is  familiar  to  readers  of  Martin's  book  on  the  Western  Isles  of 
Scotland.  The  dripping  of  blood  from  the  walls  is  illustrated  by  the 
visions  of  Bergthora,  and  Njal,  on  the  night  of  the  slaughter  of  their 
family.     Story  of  Burnt  Njal,  ii.  167  : — 

•That  same  evening  Bergthora  spake  to  her  household  and  said, 
"  Now  shall  ye  choose  your  meat  to-night,  so  that  each  may  have  what 
he  likes  best,  for  this  evening  is  the  last  that  I  shall  set  meat  before  my 
household." 

•  ••••••• 

•After  that  she  set  meat  on  the  board,  and  Njal  said,  "  Wondrously 
now  it  seems  to  me.  Methinks  I  see  all  round  the  room,  and  it  seems 
as  though  the  gable  wall  were  thrown  down,  but  the  whole  board  and 
the  meat  on  it  is  one  gore  of  blood." ' 

alfio(p6pvKTa  51  8^  Kpia  ^aOiav. 

In  the  same  way  the  comb  of  Leminkainen,  in  the  Finnish  epic,  which 
he  has  left  at  home  with  his  mother,  bursts  out  bleeding,  when  the 
hero's  life  is  endangered.  Another  Greek  example  of  the  omen  of  the 
bleeding  walls  is  to  be  found  in  the  oracle  given  at  Delphi  to  the 
Athenians,  at  the  beginning  of  the  invasion  of  Xerxes  (Herod,  vii.  140), 
Kara  5'  aKpoTarois  dp6<poi(Ti  aTp.a  p,i\av  Kex^rai. 

Mr.  Morris  has  made  use  of  the  superstition  in  The  Story  0/ Sigurd 
the  Volsung: — 

*  Woe's  me  for  the  tireless  hearth-stones,  and  the  hangings  of  delight. 
That  the  women  dare  not  look  on  lest  they  see  them  sweat  with  blood  I* 
£63 


422  NOTES, 


Note  ^\  Page  359  ;  Book  xxii.  3, 
The  House  of  Odysseus, 

It  is  a  most  difficult  thing  to  understand  the  arrangements  of  the  hall 
of  Odysseus  in  which  the  wooers  were  slaughtered.  Let  us  leave  on 
one  side  the  questions  which  do  not  immediately  concern  us,  and  follow 
the  movements  of  Odysseus  himself.  In  Book  xvii.  297,  he  stands  by 
Argos,  the  dog,  which  lies  TrpoirapoiOe  Ovpdtuv,  '  before  the  doors ; '  either 
the  doors  which  open  from  the  outer  court  into  the  public  way,  or  from 
the  house  into  the  outer  court.  The  swineherd  then  enters  the  house, 
and  Odysseus  soon  follows,  humbly  enough,  !((  8'  knl  luXivov  ovhov 
evToaOi  Ovpactiv,  '  he  sat  down  on  the  ashen  threshold  within  the  doors.* 
There  Telemachus  spied  him,  and  sent  him  a  mess.  My  impression  is, 
that  he  was  sitting  just  within  the  doors  of  the  hall.  Probably  he 
looked,  from  his  lowly  seat,  all  the  way  up  to  the  high  table  at  the 
upper  end,  where  Telemachus  would  sit.  Now  behind  Telemachus, 
behind  the  high  table,  were  the  doors  opening  on  the  passages  which 
led  to  the  women's  rooms,  and  to  the  6a\&nos,  or  store-chamber  where 
Telemachus  had  hidden  the  weapons.  We  can  easily  conceive  such 
doors  in  the  wall  behind  a  high  table  in  the  hall  of  a  college.  The 
same  arrangement  of  high  table,  of  women's  rooms,  and  of  store- 
chamber  may  be  seen  in  the  plans  of  the  skali,  or  chief's  hall,  in  Sir  G. 
W.  Dasent's  Story  of  Burnt  Njal  (vol.  i.  p.  c).  These  plans  should  not 
be  neglected  by  students  interested  in  the  architecture  of  the  Homeric 
age,  as  the  correspondence  between  the  shall  and  the  heroic  house  is 
singularly  close.  Whether  in  the  house  of  Odysseus  a  passage  ran 
outside  the  wall  of  the  hall  to  the  store-chambers,  so  that  a  man 
might  go  thither  from  the  chief  door,  without  walking  through  the 
hall,  is  not  quite  certain. 

We  left  Odysseus  just  within  his  own  door,  on  the  ashen  threshold. 
There  he  did  not  remain.  On  the  morning  of  the  day  when  the  wooera 
were  slain,  Telemachus  purposely  {Kcpdea  vtopmv,  xx.  257)  called  him  to 
another  place.  Telemachus  would  sit  at  the  high  table,  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  room.  He  would  face  the  entrance,  and  just  behind  him 
would  be  the  doors  leading  to  the  women's  chambers.     Here  he  placed 

Odysseus, 

kvrhs  \vaTaBko%  /xfyapov,  itapd.  TA'ivov  ovZ6vt 

and  there  Odysseus  remained,  and  thence  he  shot  the  wooers.    But  was 
this  \6xvo9  ov56s  really  at  the  upper  end  of  the  room,  where  the  dais  of  a 


NOTES.  423 


college  hall  is  raised?  Many  things  may  be  taken  to  point  the  other 
way.  Let  it  be  observed,  however,  that  AaiVos  ouSos  was,  not  impro- 
bably, a  pretty  high  dais,  faced  with  stone,  above  the  level  of  the  hall, 
and  on  a  level  with  the  doors  leading  to  the  women's  rooms.  That  it 
was  near  the  women's  rooms,  not  at  the  other  extremity  of  the  hall, 
may  perhaps  be  inferred  from  xxi.  234 : — 

dA.\c?  (TV,  St'  'Evixaif,  <p4pcov  dvd  S&fiara  r6^ov 

Iv  xf'pco'O'"'  fA*ot  OfiJLivai,  iirreiv  tc  yvvai^lv 

K\r}Taai  fiiyapoio  6vpas, 
that  is,  Odysseus  tells  Eumaeus  to  bring  the  bow  to  him  up  to  his  end 
of  the  hall,  by  the  threshold  of  stone,  and  then  to  tell  the  women  (who 
are  close  by,  inside  the  door)  to  make  their  doors  fast.  Again,  (xxi. 
380,)  when  Odysseus  gets  the  bow,  Eumaeus  calls  Eurycleia  out,  and 
bids  her  shut  the  door,  and  to  take  no  heed  if  she  hears  a  noise  of  groan- 
ing in  the  halls.  Now  to  tell  Eurycleia  as  much  as  this,  he  must  have 
been  near  her  quarters ;  he  could  not  have  shouted  from  the  further  end 
of  the  hall.  The  strongest  proof,  however,  that  the  stone  threshold  waa 
between  the  inner  chamber  and  the  hall  is  to  be  found  in  xxiii.  88. 
Penelope  comes  into  the  hall,  from  the  inner  chambers, 

ij  8'  €ir(l  (lafjXOfv  KOI  virip^T]  \aivov  ovSov, 
The  Xdl'vos  oiiSos  is  also  known  as  that  which  Agamemnon  crossed,  when 
he  inquired  of  the  oracle  at  Pytho,  or  Delphi ;  and  again,  is  spoken  of 
in  the  Iliad  as  having  behind  it  the  countless  treasures  of  Delphi.  In 
both  places  it  may  mean  the  threshold  between  the  nave  of  the  God's 
house,  or  hall,  and  the  OaXdfios,  or  inner  chamber  of  the  Pythoness, 
where  she  prophesied,  and  where  the  treasures  were  kept,  just  as  in  a 
man's  house  the  women  and  treasu  es  lay  behind  the  hall.  It  is  certain, 
at  all  events,  that  Odysseus  shot  from  near  the  stone  threshold.  His 
settle  was  placed  near  it  (xx.  258),  from  this  settle  he  shot  through  the 
iron,  and  then  (xxii.  2),  SKto  S'  tirl  niyav  ovSov,  'he  leaped  on  to  the 
great  threshold,'  and  began  to  slay  the  wooers.  I  conceive  that  the  height 
of  the  threshold  made  it  a  place  of  strength,  and  that  he  had  the 
command  of  the  armoury  where  the  weapons  lay,  because  the  door  of 
it  was  close  behind  him.  Plainly  the  wooers  had  not  the  command  of 
the  door  giving  on  the  passage  to  the  store  chamber  or  armoury, 
otherwise  they  would  not  have  sent  Melanthius  through  the  clerestory 
openings.  Now  we  are  never  told  that  ihh  door  had  been  fastened  by 
Eurycleia  from  within,  as  the  doors  leading  ta  the  women's  chamben 


4H  NOTES. 


had  been.  Odysseus  then  showered  his  arrows  from  above  the  high 
table  towards  the  entrance  of  the  hall.  If  this  is  a  mistaken- view, 
there  must  have  been  more  than  one  *  threshold  of  stone,'  and  Telem- 
achus  must  have  reached  the  armoury  by  means  of  a  passage  running 
the  whole  length  of  the  house,  from  the  outer  door.  In  Book  xxii. 
line  76  certainly  reads  as  if  Odysseus  were  guarding  the  outer  door.  If 
he  really  stood  above  the  high  table,  then  in  line  123,  aKporarov  Sc  wap' 
ovZov,  ovd6$  (unless,  as  in  the  text,  we  take  it  to  be  the  threshold  of  the 
opaoOvprj  itself)  would  be  the  broad  raised  place  where  I  have  supposed 
Odysseus  to  stand.  At  the  edge  of  it,  next  the  wall,  was  a  postern, 
guarded  by  the  swineherd,  who  would  indeed  have  been  an  *  unenviable 
swineherd,'  as  Mr.  Buckley  calls  him,  if  he  had  been  obliged  to 
guard  the  postern  as  it  is  placed  in  some  plans,  that  is,  at  the  upper  end 
of  the  hall  among  the  enemies,  while  Odysseus  is  supposed  to  be  at  the 
lower  end.  There  was  a  shut  door  behind  Odysseus,  for  (xxii.  258,  275) 
the  spears  thrown  at  him  struck  it.  On  the  whole,  the  balance  seems 
somewhat  to  lean  to  the  theory  that  Odysseus  shot  from  the  oidos  above 
the  high  table,  with  his  back  to  the  store-chamber  (with  which  he  could 
communicate)  and  to  the  women's  rooms  (of  which  the  door  was  locked), 
and  with  his  face  to  the  entrance  of  the  hall.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
speech  of  Melanthius  (xxii.  136)  dyxt  y^p  alvws  avK^s  KuKd  Ovperpa,  is 
unintelligible  on  this  theory. 

The  theory  of  Mr.  Watkiss  Lloyd  {Architect  Aug.  4  and  11,  1877)  is 
the  same  as  mine  up  to  the  moment  when  Odysseus  dXro  km  fxiyav 
ovdov,  where  Mr.  Watkiss  Lloyd  supposes  that  the  hero  has  traversed 
the  whole  length  of  the  hall.  But  it  is  not  in  the  Homeric  manner  to 
leave  this  important  movement  unmentioned. 

A.  L. 

NoTE^,  Page  390;  Book  xxiv.  So, 

Burial. 

Burial  in  the  Homeric  age  is  described  most  minutely  in  this  passage, 
and  in  Iliad  vii.  420,  xxiii.  135,  xxiv.  785,  also  in  Odyssey  xii.  8-15.  After 
the  friends  of  the  dead  have  bewailed  him  and  shorn  their  hair  in  token  of 
sorrow,  they  build  a  vast  funeral  pyre  of  wood.  On  this  the  corpse  is 
laid,  covered  with  the  fat  of  victims  slain  in  sacrifice.  Unguents  and 
honey  are  added  to  the  pyre,  and  probably,  as  is  now  the  custom  in  Bur- 
mah,  the  dead  was  embalmed  in  honey,  if  it  was  desirable  to  keep  the  body 
for  some  days  before  the  funeral.     Victims  of  various  sorts  were  .slain. 


NOTES.  425 


as  the  horses  and  hounds  of  Patroclus,  and  the  captive  Trojan  youths. 
This  last  act  seems  to  have  been  reprobated  by  the  general  feeling  of 
Homeric  Greece.  When  the  flame  had  consumed  the  corpse,  the  ashes 
were  stored  in  a  golden  vase,  and  that  was  deposited  in  a  receptacle  dug 
in  the  floor  of  the  barrow.  Last  a  rounded  barrow  of  stones  and  earth 
was  built  above  the  dust  of  the  dead,  and  finally  '  a  pillar  was  dragged 
up  thereupon.'  (Od.  xii.  14.)  The  arfiXrj  is  particularly  mentioned  in 
Iliad  xvii.  434,  '  as  a  pillar  firmly  abides  that  is  set  on  the  barrow  of 
woman  or  man,'  and  again  (Iliad  xvi.  457,  675)  it  is  called '  the  due  of 
the  dead.'  These  facts  suggest  two  conclusions.  First,  the  famous 
tombs  of  the  Mycensean  acropolis  cannot  be  of  the  Homeric  age,  for  they 
do  not  conform  to  Homer's  repeated  descriptions.  Secondly,  no  anti- 
quarian discovery  could  be  more  valuable  than  that  of  a  real  Homeric 
ariiXr].  It  is  most  probable  that  they  were  not  plain  stones,  but  that, 
as  in  later  Greece,  they  were  engraved  with  some  hieratic  and  con- 
ventional design.  The  earliest  known  Greek  stelae  (leaving  those  of 
Mycenae  out  of  the  question)  were  excavated  at  Sparta.  On  these 
are  represented  two  crowned  figures,  male  and  female,  seated'  on 
the  same  throne,  and  approached  by  the  much  smaller  figure  of  the 
dead,  who  bears  in  his  hands  a  cock,  the  victim  commonly  sacrificed 
after  a  death  by  all  races  from  Siberia  to  Ceylon,— the  cock  that 
Socrates  *  owed  to  Asclepius.'  The  seated  figures  are  doubtless  intended 
for  Hades  and  Persephone.  Interesting  as  these  stelae  are,  they  cannot, 
from  the  character  of  the  art,  be  much  earlier  than  the  sixth  century. 
If  the  Mycenaean  graves  are  pre-Homeric,  we  may  suppose  that  the  rude 
design  on  the  stela,  the  king  fighting  from  his  chariot,  is  a  faint 
memory  of  Egyptian  art.  The  discovery  of  a  genuine  Homeric  tumulus 
will  clear  up  many  archaeological  problems.  The  absence  of  writing 
on  an  ancient  memorial  pillar  would  be  far  from  proving  that  writing 
was  unknown.  Uninscribed  monoliths  have  been  raised  in  memory 
of  great  events  by  Scotch  Highlanders  in  the  present  century.  On 
the  subject  of  the  stelae,  see  Mittheilungen  der  deutschen  Arehdedogischen 
Institutes  in  Athen,  vol.  ii,  pp.  20-24. 


APPENDIX. 

A.     THE  RAFT. 

Book  V.  245-277,  p.  84. 

A  complete  and  highly  interesting  description  of  the  EuiWing  of  the 
Raft  will  be  found  in  the  Journal  of  the  Hellenic  Society,  vol.  v.  pp. 
aoa-219.    The  paper  is  by  the  Rev.  E.  Warre,  Head  Master  oi  Eton, 


RAFT    OF   ODYSSEUS. 


whose  suggestions  we  have  already  acknowledged  in  our  Preface.  "By 
the  courtesy  of  the  Hellenic  Society  we  are  allowed  to  print  an 
illustration  from  Dr.  Warre's  paper. 


4^8  APPENDIX. 


B.     Uhva,   OR    BRIDE-PRICE. 

We  have  already  remarked  (note  5)  that  '  in  the  case  of  a  favourer' 
wooer'  a  portion  of  the  bride-price  was  sometimes  returned  by  the 
father,  after  marriage.  A  curious  parallel  is  found  among  the  Hindoos. 
In  The  Patriarchal  Theory  (p.  290)  Mr.  M'-'Lennan  writes,  '  It  was  a 
custom  coming  down  from  very  early  times  that,  at  the  time  of  mar- 
riage, the  bridegroom  should  make  a  gift — and  a  very  substantial  one- 
10  the  bride's  father.  Thh  it  was  the  duty  of  the  latter  to  return^  Thi.^ 
custom  is  clearly  an  advance  on  a  former  stage  of  marriage  by  purchase, 
an  intermediate  stage  being  found  in  Greece  in  passages  like  Od.  i  778, 
ii.  igf), — 'the  gifts  of  wooing  ali  that  should  go  back  with  a  daughter 
dearly  beloved,' 


C. 

Note  10,  p.  328,  Book  XTX,  578. 


An  axe  which  suits  our  theory  even  better  than  that  in  fig.  5,  p.  419, 
is  described  by  Dr.  Warre.  Journ,  Hellen.  Soc.  v.  213.  The  axe  here 
engraved  is  that  of  the  Egyptian  shipwrights 
in  the  tomb-pictures  of  Sakkarah.  See  Due- 
michen,  Fleet  of  an  Egyptian  Queen,  pi.  xxi. 
To  shoot  through  twelve  such  axe  heads 
•  would  at  once  test  the  skill  of  the  artist  in 
aiming,  and  the  strength  of  tlie  bow  in  the  flat  trajectory  of  the  arrow.' 


o 


Horner^  thy  song  men  liken  to  the  sea, 
With  every  note  of  music  in  its  tone^ 
With  tides  that  wash  the  dim  dominion 

Of  Hades,  and  light  waves  that  laugh  in  glee 

Around  the  isles  enchanted :  nay,  to  7ne 

Thy  verse  seems  as  the  River  of  source  unknovj 
That  glasses  Egypfs  temples  overthrown^ 

Jn  his  sky -nurtured  stream,  eternally. 

No  wiser  we  than  men  of  heretofore 

To  find  thy  mystic  fountains  guarded  fast  ^ 

Enough — thy  flood  makes  green  our  hutnan  shore 
As  Nilus,  Egypt,  rolling  down  his  vasty 

His  fertile  waters,  murmuring  evermore 

Of  gods  dethroned^  and  empires  of  tlu  Past, 

A.L. 


CLASSICAL  TRANSLATIONS. 


CICERO— Life  and  Ijetters.  Being  a  new  translation  of  the  let- 
ters included  in  Mr.  Watson's  selection.  With  notes.  By  Rev.  G. 
E.  Jeans,  M.A.    8vo.    $2.75. 

CICERO— The  Acadexnica.    Translated  by  J.  S.  Reid,  M.A.    8vo, 

$1.50. 

HOISIER'S  ODYSSEY.  Done  into  English  Prose.  By  S.  H.  But- 
cher, M.A.,  and  A.  Lang,  M.A.    12mo.    gl. 

'•  The  present  brilliant  translation  of  the  Odyssey  is  another  most 
gratifying  proof  of  the  taste  and  soundness  of  English  scholarship." 
—Saturday  Review. 

"This  emooth,  melodious,  slightly  antiquated,  but  strong  and  able 
prose  goes  on  evenly,  through  sorrow,  disaster,  death,  adventure,  feast- 
ing, jesting,  peril  and  triumph,  in  the  wonderful  story,  with  very  much 
such  an  effect  upon  an  English  ear,  as  the  liexameter  may  have  had  on 
the  more  rythmical  Greek  ear.  Certainly  no  verse  translation  that  we 
have  read  can  carry  one  through  the  poem  with  so  much  interest  and 
so  little  sense  of  monotony."— iVix^ion. 

HORACE— Word  for  Word.  The  Odes  literally  versified.  (With 
text  on  opposite  page.)  By  Wili,iam  Thomas  Thornton,  C.B. 
12mo.    $225. 

HORACE— Works.    Rendered  into  English  prose,  with  introduc- 
tions, running  analysis,  notes  and  an  index.    By  Jamks  Lonsdale, 
M.A.,  and  Samuel  Lee,  M.A.    12mo.    $1.25. 
"  To  classical  and  non-classical  readers  it  will  be  invaluable."— ion- 

don  Standard. 

JXTVEN  All— Thirteen  Satires.  Translated  into  English,  after  the 
Latin  Text  of  J.  E.  B.  Mayor,  M.A.  ByH.  A.Stronq,M.A.,LL.D., 
and  Alexander  Leeper,  M.A.    12mo.    $1. 

PINDAR— The  Extant  Odes.    Translated  into  English,  with  an 
introduction  and  short  notes.    By  Ernest  Myers,  M.A.    12mo. 
$1.50. 
"Several  translations  in  poetical  prose  have  recently  appeared;  of 

these  Mr.  Ernest  Myers'  is  by  far  the  best."— -4<A«n«Mm. 

PliATO— The  Dialogries.  Translated  into  English.  By  B.  Jowett 
M.A. ,  Master  of  BalTiol  College.  Second  edition,  revised  and  cor- 
rected throughout,  with  additions  and  an  index  of  subjects  and 
proper  names.    5vol8.,8vo.    $17.50. 


MACMILLAN'S  CLASSICAL  TRANSLATIONS. 


PL  ATO— The  Republic.  Translated  into  English,  with  an  analysis 
and  notes.  By  John  Llewklyn  Davies,  M.A.,  and  David  James 
Vaughan,  M.A.    18mo.  $1.25. 

PliATO— The  Trial  and  Death  of  Socrates,  being  the  Euthy- 
phro,  Apology,  Crito,  and  Phiedo.    Translated  by  F.  J.  Church. 
12mo.    $1.25. 
"  We  shall  be  glad  if  our  good  word  may  serve  to  promote  the  popu- 
larity of  this  little  book,  which  contains  one  of  the  most  pathetic,  and, 
if  read  aright,  edifying  books  in  our  history."— Zowdton  Examiner. 

SAIiIjTTST— Catiline  and  Jugurtha.  Translated  into  English. 
By  Alfred  W.  Pollard,  B.A.    12mo.    $1.60. 

TACITUS— The  Agricola  and  Germany,  and  the  Dialogue 
on  Oratory.  Translated  into  English.  By  Alfred  Johh 
Chctrch,  M.A.,  and  William  Jackson  Brodribb,  M.A.  Revised 
edition,  with  notes  and  maps.    12mo.    $1.25. 

By  the  same  Translators. 

TACITUS— The  Annals.    12mo.    $2. 

The  History.    12mo.    $1.60. 

TERENCE— The  Self-Tormentor.  Translated  from  the  Hauton 
Timorumenos  of  Terence.  ByB.  S.  Shitckburoh,  M.A.,  with  text. 
16mo.    $1. 

THEOCRITUS— Bion  and  Moschus.  Done  into  English,  with 
an  essay  on  Theocritus  and  his  Life.  By  Andrew  Lang,  M.A. 
12mo.   $1.50. 

"  We  may  at  once  pronounce  this  volume  to  be  as  near  as  possible  to 
perfection.  "—xSaiwrday  Review. 

THEOPHRASTUS— Characters.  An  English  translation  (with 
a  revised  text  on  opposite  page),  with  introduction  and  notes.  By 
R.  C.  Jebb,  M.A.  {Reprinting. 

VIRQ-Hi— Works.    Rendered  into  English  prose,  with  introduction, 
running  analysis,  notes  and  an  index.    By  James  Lonsdale,  M.A., 
and  Samuel  Lee,  M.A.    12mo.    $1.25. 
"A  more  complete  edition  of  Virgil  it  is  scarcely  possible  to  con- 

c«ive  than  the  scholarly  work  before  us."— Zondon  Glebe. 


MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  NEW  YORK. 


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